(viun 


^^^^iL!BRARY<9/^ 
'^  1   ir^  ^ 


^(!/0J|]V3J0-^ 


^<!/0jnV3JO'f' 


^^.OFCAIIFO/?^ 


•>t?Aavaan# 


^>;,OFCAIiF0;?;j^ 


^^\^F-l]N!VERS/^ 


vvlOSANCFlfj> 


^TilJONVSOl^"^         %a3AINn-3V\V 


\\)tl)NIVER%       ^lOSASCElfj> 


%13DNYS01^'^ 


^^llIBRARYQr^      ■;>^lllBRARYQ/r 


^ 


f  1  im  inrrf 


i-'/\VJ»  UUII 


'J  IJ  Jll  I    0\J  I 


VER%         ^^lOUNCElfJ> 


/•soi^      -^AaaAiNnawv 


u3 


^aOJIlVD-JO-^ 


.^QF-CALIFO% 


>&Aavilan•lv^ 


-v^jNlllBRARYQ^ 


^OFCAIIR)/?^ 

s 


AWMiNIVER^// 


^W[UNIVERV/ 


""^^^Ayvaaiii^"^' 


'^J^ilJDNVSOl^ 


\ms/^^      vviosANcnfj>       -s^^uibraryq^ 


DE   AMICITIA 


^1 

CICERO 

'  DE  AMICITIA  ] 

(ON  FRIENDSHIP)  g 


BY 


I  M.TULLIUS  CICERO 


•TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  LATIN 
BY  BENJAMIN  E.  SMITH 


WSX^rf**, 


NEW  YORK  W 

THE  CENTURY  CO.    ^ 


906 


W?sJW?i>«4^W<w^^ 


Copyright,  1897, 
By  The  Century  Co. 


THE  DEViNNE  Press. 


stack 
Anrtdx 

A' 


I, 

DE  AMICITIA 


2057153 


DE  AMICITIA 

(ON   FRIENDSHIP) 


INTRODUCTION 


QuiNTUs  Mucius,'  the  Au- 
gur, used  to  repeat  very 
entertainingly  from  mem- 
ory many  of  the  sayings 
of  Caius  Laelius,^  his  fa- 
ther-in-law, to  whom  he 
always  gave  without  hesi- 
tation the  surname  Wise. 
As  soon  as  I  put  on  the 
garb  of  manhood  my  father 


brought  me  to  Scaevola,^ 
that  I  might  attend  him, 
and  thereafter,  as  much  as 
was  possible  and  permit- 
ted, I  remained  at  the  old 
man's  side.  It  thus  hap- 
pened that  I  was  able  to 
commit  to  memory  many 
of  his  longer  discourses 
as  well  as  his  brief  and 
pithy  remarks,  and  to 
devote  myself  to  the  in- 
creasing of  my  own  know- 
ledge through  his  wisdom. 
When  he  died  I  attached 
myself  to  Scaevola,^  the 
Pontifex  Maximus,  whom 
I  venture  to  call  the  most 
distinguished  of  our  citi- 
zens both  for  intellect  and 
for  integrity.  But  of  him 
I   will    speak    in    another 


place.     I  return  now  to  the 
Augur. 

Among  the  many  that 
I  remember,  I  recall  in  par- 
ticular one  occasion  when, 
seated,  as  was  his  custom, 
in  his  hemicyclium^  with 
myself  and  a  few  of  his 
most  intimate  friends  about 
him,  he  chanced  to  speak 
of  a  matter  that  was  then 
attracting  much  attention, 
and  which  you,  Atticus,^ 
surely  recollect,  since  you 
were  well  acquainted  with 
Publius  Sulpicius,^  name- 
ly, the  bitter  animosity  with 
which  Sulpicius,  when  he 
was  Tribune  of  the  people, 
opposed  Quintus  Pom- 
peius,^  then  Consul,  with 
whom    he    had    lived    on 


terms  of  affectionate  inti- 
macy —  a  subject  of  much 
surprise  and  general  re- 
gret. The  mention  of  this 
affair  led  Scaevola  to  re- 
peat to  us  a  conversation 
about  friendship  which 
Laelius  had  held  with  him 
and  with  his  other  son-in- 
law,  Caius  Fannius,9  the 
son  of  Marcus,  a  few  days 
after  the  death  of  Afri- 
canus.'°  The  substance 
of  this  conversation  I 
committed  to  memory, 
and  I  have  set  it  forth  in 
my  own  words  in  this  es- 
say, casting  the  matter  in 
the  form  of  a  dialogue  to 
avoid  the  frequent  repeti- 
tion of  "  said  I  "  and  "said 
he," and  to  make  the  reader 


feel  that  he  has  been  list- 
ening to  the  speakers  them- 
selves. 

For  you  have  often 
urged  me  to  write  some- 
thing on  this  topic,  and  it 
appears  to  me  also  to  be 
one  that  is  worthy  of  the 
consideration  of  all,  and 
especially  of  such  friends 
as  ourselves.  I  was,  there- 
fore, very  willing  to  grant 
your  request,  and  in  grant- 
ing it  to  be  of  service  to 
others  also.  And  as  in 
"Cato  the  Elder,"  or  "Old 
Age,"  which  was  inscribed 
to  you,  I  introduced  the 
aged  Cato"  as  the  chief 
disputant,  because  no  char- 
acter seemed  to  me  so 
suited  to  one  who  should 


talk  of  old  age  as  that  of 
this  man  who  had  been  old 
so  long  and  in  his  age  had 
so  far  surpassed  all  others 
in  vigor;  so  it  has  seemed 
to  me  fitting  to  assign  to 
Laelius  the  thoughts  about 
friendship  which  Scaevola 
remembered  that  he  ut- 
tered, especially  since  we 
have  heard  from  our  el- 
ders that  the  intimacv  that 
existed  between  Laelius 
and  Publius  Scipio  ^^  was 
very  remarkable.  Besides, 
this  method  of  presenting 
the  subject,  resting  as  it 
does  on  the  authority  of 
illustrious  men  of  former 
times,  seems,  for  some  rea- 
son, to  produce  a  more 
weighty  impression.  Even 

6 


I,  when  I  read  my  own 
book  on  "  Old  Age,"  some- 
times feel  that  it  is  not  I 
who  am  speaking,  but 
Cato  himself. 

As  I,  an  old  man,  then 
wrote  to  an  old  man  of 
old  age,  so  now  I  write 
lovingly  of  friendship  to 
the  best  of  friends.  Then 
Cato  spoke,  a  man  older 
than  almost  all  his  con- 
temporaries and  of  greater 
practical  wisdom  than  any; 
but  now  that  friendship  is 
the  theme,  Laelius,  a  man 
both  wise  —  for  so  he  was 
esteemed  —  and  notable 
for  all  that  makes  friend- 
ship glorious,  shall  lead  the 
debate.  In  the  meanwhile 
turn   your  thoughts   from 


me  and  imagine  that  you 
hear  him  speaking. 

CaiusFannius  and  Ouin- 
tus  Mucius  visit  their  fa- 
ther-in-law after  the  death 
of  Africanus.  The  con- 
versation is  opened  by 
them  and  Laelius  replies. 
Their  whole  talk  is  of 
friendship ;  and  in  what 
they  say  you  will  find 
yourself  portrayed. 


THE    CONVERSATION 

Fanmus.  That  is  true, 
Laelius.  For  there  never 
was  a  better  man  than  Af- 
ricanus,  nor  one  more  il- 
lustrious. But  you  should 
remember  in  your  grief 
that  the  eyes  of  all  men 
are  now  turned  upon  you, 
whom  they  both  think 
and  call  the  Wise.  For  al- 
though, as  we  know,  this 
title  was  given  by  our  fa- 
thers to  Lucius  Atilius,'3 
and  recently  to  Marcus 
Cato,'^  both  of  them  re- 
ceived it  for  reasons  some- 


what  different  from  those 
that  have  led  men  to  give 
it  to  you  —  Atilius,  be- 
cause he  was  deemed  ex- 
pert in  the  law;  Cato  on 
account  of  the  variety  of 
his  attainments :  for  so 
much  practical  wisdom 
both  in  the  Senate  and  the 
courts  —  so  much  foresight 
in  planning,  energy  in  ex- 
ecution, and  skill  in  de- 
fense —  was  credited  to 
him,  that  in  his  later  years 
"the  Wise"  became  as  it 
were  his  distinguishing 
name.  You,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  so  esteemed,  not 
only  on  account  of  your 
disposition  and  character 
but  also  because  of  your 
knowledge  and  learning: 


you  are  wise,  not  as  the 
crowd  reckons  wisdom, 
but  in  that  higher  sense, 
understood  only  by  the 
truly  learned,  in  which  it 
was  said  that  in  all  Greece 
no  one  was  wise  save  that 
one  man  '^  at  Athens  who 
was  declared  to  be  the 
wisest  by  the  Delphic  ora- 
cle (for  the  Seven,  though 
so  called,  are  not  held  to 
belong  to  the  number  of 
the  truly  wise  by  those  who 
think  more  profoundly). 

This  wisdom  people 
think  you  possess  —  a  wis- 
dom which  teaches  you  to 
seek  the  source  of  all  hap- 
piness in  yourself  alone, 
and  to  esteem  the  haps  and 
mishaps  of  life  as  insignifi- 


cant  in  comparison  with 
virtue. ,  Accordingly  they 
are  asking  me,  and  Scae- 
vola  too,  I  suppose,  how 
you  are  bearing  the  death 
of  Africanus;  and  their 
curiosity  is  increased  by 
the  fact  that  recently  when 
we  assembled,  as  usual,  for 
deliberation  in  the  gardens 
of  Decimus  Brutus,  the 
Augur,  you  were  absent, 
although  you  have  always 
been  very  careful  to  be 
present  at  these  meetings 
and  perform  your  official 
duties. 

ScAEvoLA.  Indeed  I  am 
asked  this  by  many,  Lae- 
lius,  as  Fanniussays.  But 
I  answer  that  I  have  noted 
that  you   bear  with  great 


self-restraint  the  grief  which 
the  death  of  this  most  ex- 
cellent man  and  very  dear 
friend  has  caused  you, 
though  you  are  too  full  of 
human  kindness  not  to  suf- 
fer keenly  from  the  loss.  I 
tell  them,  however,  that  the 
reason  of  your  absence 
from  the  official  meeting 
of  the  Augurs  was  not  your 
affliction  but  ill-health. 

Laelius.  And  you  an- 
swered well,  Scaevola,  and 
truly.  For  had  I  been 
well  I  ought  not  on  ac- 
count of  my  unhappiness 
to  have  neglected  a  duty 
which  I  have  always  punc- 
tually discharged ;  nor  do 
I  think  that  any  mis- 
fortune can  cause  a  man 


13 


of  firm  character  to  be 
guilty  of  such  shortcom- 
ings. But,  Fannius,  when 
you  tell  me  that  wisdom 
and  virtue  are  attributed 
to  me  beyond  what  I  can 
admit  or  desire,  you  speak 
as  a  friend ;  and  I  do  not 
think  that  your  judgment 
does  justice  to  Cato.  For 
if  any  one  is  truly  wise, — 
which  I  am  disposed  to 
doubt, —  he  was  a  wise 
man.  How  courageously 
—  to  give  only  one  illus- 
tration— he  bore  the  death 
ofhissonl'^  I  remembered 
that  Paulus  ^^  had  suffered 
a  similar  affliction,  and  I 
had  seen  Gallus  '^  when  the 
same  grief  had  come  to 
him ;    but   the   sons  these 


men  lost  were  boys  :  Cato's 
son  was  a  mature  and  hon- 
ored man.  Wherefore  do 
not  heedlessly  prefer  to 
Cato  even  the  man  whom 
Apollo  declared  to  be  the 
wisest.  For  Socrates  is, 
indeed,  famous  for  his 
words;  but  Cato  is  illus- 
trious through  his  deeds. 
This  in  reply  to  Fannius  : 
as  regards  myself,  I  will 
now  answer  you  both. 

If  I  were  to  deny  that 
I  deeply  feel  the  death  of 
Scipio,  those  who  profess 
to  be  wise  in  such  matters^^ 
must  judge  whether  such 
an  attitude  of  mind  is  right 
or  wrong — but  certainly  I 
should  not  be  telling  the 
truth.  For  I  do  feel  the 
15 


loss  of  the  best  friend  that 
I  know  man  ever  had  or, 
I  feel  sure,  ever  will  have. 
But  I  need  no  external 
remedy  for  my  wound ;  I 
am  able  to  heal  myself, 
especially  with  the  consol- 
ing thought  that,  unlike 
most  who  are  overwhelmed 
with  anguish  when  their 
friends  die,  I  do  not  grieve 
without  hope.  For  I  do 
not  think  that  an  evil  thing 
has  happened  to  Scipio  : 
if  there  is  any  evil  in  the 
event,  I  am  the  one  who 
suffers  it ;  but  to  be  unduly 
distressed  by  one's  own  af- 
fliction is  the  part  not  of 
one  who  loves  his  friend, 
but  of  one  who  loves  him- 
self 

i6 


As  for  him,  who  will 
deny  that  his  lot  was  a 
glorious  one?  For  unless 
he  had  wished  —  what  he 
never  thought  of — to  be 
exempt  from  death,  what 
was  there  within  the 
proper  limits  of  human 
desire  that  he  did  not  at- 
tain '? — he  who  by  the  ex- 
traordinary virtues  of  his 
early  manhood  surpassed 
even  the  highest  hopes 
that  his  fellow-citizens  had 
already  formed  of  him  in 
his  boyhood;  who  never 
sought  the  Consulship, 
yet  was  twice  made  Con- 
sul— once  before  he  had 
reached  the  legal  age,  and 
again  at  a  time  propitious 
for  himself  but  almost  too 

'  17 


late  for  the  safety  of  the 
Republic ;  and  who  by 
the  overthrow  of  two  cities, 
both  fiercely  hostile  to  our 
state,  not  only  put  an  end 
to  existing  wars  but  also 
prevented  them  for  the  fu- 
ture. Why  should  I  speak 
of  his  gracious  manners,  of 
his  affection  for  his  mother, 
of  his  generosity  to  his 
sisters,  of  his  goodness  to- 
ward the  rest  of  his  fam- 
ily, of  his  justice  to  all 
men?  These  things  you 
both  know  well.  How 
much,  also,  he  was  loved 
by  the  general  public  was 
manifest  in  the  grief  that 
was  shown  at  his  funeral. 
Of  what  profit,  then, 
to  him  would  have  been 


i8 


a  few  more  years  of  life  ? 
For  old  age,  even  though 
it  may  not  be  in  itself 
a  burden, — as  I  remem- 
ber Cato  maintained  in  a 
conversation  with  Scipio 
and  myself  the  year  before 
he  died, —  necessarily  im- 
pairs that  vitality  and  vigor 
which  Scipio  still  pos- 
sessed. Thus  his  life  was 
so  complete,  both  in  good 
fortune  and  in  fame,  that 
nothing  could  be  added 
to  it:  and  even  in  dying 
this  good  fortune  followed 
him,  for  the  suddenness  of 
his  death  doubtless  robbed 
it  of  its  pain.  The  exact 
manner  of  it  we  cannot 
tell  with  certainty :  vari- 
ous suspicions  are,  as  you 
19 


know,  in  the  air.  But  this 
we  can  say,  that  of  the 
many  happy  and  famous 
days  that  Pubhus  Scipio 
saw  during  his  life,  the 
most  glorious  one  was  the 
day  before  his  death,  when 
toward  evening,  on  the 
adjournment  of  the  Sen- 
ate, he  was  escorted  to  his 
home  by  the  Conscript 
Fathers,  the  Roman  peo- 
ple, the  Latins,  and  the  al- 
lies. From  this  lofty  plane 
of  honor  he  seems  not  to 
have  descended  to  the 
shades  but  to  have  as- 
cended to  the  gods. 

For  I  do  not  agree  with 
those ''°  who  have  of  late 
begun  to  argue  that  the 
soul     perishes     with     the 


body  and  that  death  ends 
all.  Of  more  weight  with 
me  is  the  authority  of  the 
ancients — of  our  ancestors, 
who  surely  would  not  have 
established  religious  rites 
for  the  dead  if  they  had 
thought  that  the  dead  have 
no  concern  in  them ;  of 
those  philosophers  who 
by  their  schools  and  in- 
struction made  Magna 
Graecia  ^'  (now  utterly  de- 
cayed but  then  flourishing) 
famous  for  learning;  and 
of  that  sage,  judged  by  the 
oracle  of  Apollo  to  be 
the  wisest  of  men,  whose 
opinion  was  not  now  this 
and  now  that,  as  with 
most,  but  always  the 
same  —  that  the  souls  of 


men  are  divine,  that  when 
they  leave  the  body  they 
find  the  return  to  heaven 
open,  and  that  this  return 
is  easiest  for  the  most  up- 
right and  the  best.  And 
this  was  also  the  behef  of 
Scipio  who,  almost  pro- 
phetically, a  little  while 
before  his  death,  in  the 
presence  of  Philus,^^  Man- 
ilius, ^3 and  several  others, — 
and  of  you,  too,  Scaevola, 
for  you  had  come  with 
me, — talked  on  three  suc- 
cessive days  about  the  Re- 
public, and  toward  the  end 
spoke  almost  wholly  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul, 
telling  us  what  he  had 
heard  in  a  dream  ^^  from 
Africanus. 


If  this  then  is  true,  that 
for  each  soul  the  escape, 
as  it  were,  from  its  im- 
prisonment in  the  body  is 
easy  in  proportion  to  its 
moral  worth,  for  whom 
can  this  flight  to  the  gods 
have  been  easier  than  for 
Scipio  ?  I,  therefore,  fear 
to  lament  his  fate  lest  such 
grief  should  show  more  of 
envy  than  of  friendship. 
Even  if  the  truth  is  with 
the  other  belief,  that  soul 
and  body  perish  together 
and  that  no  consciousness 
survives,  it  remains  certain 
that  if  death  brings  noth- 
ing good  it  also  brings 
nothing  evil.  For  if  con- 
sciousness be  lost  it  is  with 
him  exactly  as  if  he  had 
23 


not  been  born  at  all  — 
though  we  rejoice  that  he 
was  born,  and  this  State 
also,  as  long  as  it  ex- 
ists, will  rejoice.  And  so 
to  him,  as  I  have  said, 
the  best  has  happened ; 
though  not  to  me,  for  as 
I  came  into  the  world  be- 
fore him  I  ought  to  have 
been  the  first  to  leave  it. 
But  so  delightful  is  the 
recollection  of  our  friend- 
ship that  the  happiness  of 
my  life  seems  to  me  to 
have  been  that  I  lived 
with  Scipio;  for  we  were 
united  in  domestic  and 
in  public  affiiirs,  at  home 
and  in  military  service, 
and  by  that  strongest  bond 
of  love,  harmony  of  de- 
24 


sires,  pursuits,  and  senti- 
ments. I  am,  therefore, 
not  so  much  pleased  by 
that  reputation  for  wisdom 
which  Fannius  just  men- 
tioned —  and  which  is 
certainly  not  merited — as 
by  the  hope  that  the 
memory  of  our  friendship 
will  never  perish;  and  this 
I  have  at  heart  the  more 
because  in  all  the  past 
scarcely  three  or  four  pairs 
of  friends  have  become 
famous  —  a  group  in 
which  I  hope,  the  friend- 
ship of  Laelius  and  Scipio 
will  be  known  to  pos- 
terity. 

Fannius.    There  can  be 
no  doubt  about  that,  Lae- 
lius.    But  since  you  have 
25 


mentioned  the  subject,  and 
we  have  nothing  else  on 
hand,  you  will  do  a  great 
favor  to  me — and  to  Scae- 
vola  too,  I  am  sure  —  if 
you  will  talk  to  us  about 
friendship,  just  as  you  do 
about  other  matters  when 
your  opinion  is  sought, 
telling  us  what  are  your 
ideas  about  it,  what,  in 
your  opinion,  is  its  char- 
acter, and  what  rules  you 
would  lay  down  with  re- 
gard to  it. 

ScAEvoLA.  I  shall  be 
very  glad  to  listen ;  and  I 
was  about  to  ask  you  to 
do  this  when  Fannius  an- 
ticipated me.  So  you  will 
be  conferring  a  favor  on 
us  both. 

26 


Laelius.  I  certainly 
would  not  hesitate  if  I 
felt  confidence  in  my 
ability;  for  the  subject  is 
a  very  attractive  and  im- 
portant one,  and  we  are, 
as  Fannius  has  said,  at 
leisure.  But  who  am  I 
that  I  should  discuss  this 
theme  or  what  capacity 
have  I  to  do  it  justice? 
To  speak  without  prepara- 
tion on  topics  suggested 
by  others  is  a  custom 
among  philosophers,  espe- 
cially the  Greeks.  But 
the  art  is  a  difficult  one, 
and  requires  not  a  little 
practice.  It  seems  to  me, 
therefore,  that  you  would 
do  better  to  seek  what  can 
be  said  about  friendship 
27 


from    those    who    possess 
this  accomplishment. 

As  for  me,  I  can  only 
urge  you  to  prefer  friend- 
ship to  everything  else  in 
life ;  for  there  is  nothing 
else  so  fitted  to  nature  — 
so  well  suited  both  to  pros- 
perity and  to  adversity. 
But  I  assert  as  a  first  prin- 
ciple that  friendship  can 
exist  only  between  those 
who  are  good ;  nor  would 
I  split  hairs  in  defining 
this  word  "  good,"  as 
some  ^5  (Jo  who  discuss 
these  matters  with  sub- 
tlety and  perhaps  cor- 
rectly in  theory,  but  with 
little  advantage  to  the  un- 
learned, for  they  deny  that 
any  one  can  be  good  ex- 
28 


cept  the  wise.  This  may 
be  true ;  but  they  under- 
stand by  wisdom  some- 
thing that  no  mortal  being 
has  yet  attained ;  while  we 
ought  to  have  in  view 
those  traits  which  have  a 
place  in  the  experience 
of  common  life,  and  not 
those  which  are  mere  pro- 
ducts of  fancy  or  objects 
of  aspiration.  For  I  will 
never  call  Caius  Fabri- 
cius,^^  Manius  Curius,^^ 
or  Tiberius  Coruncanius,^^ 
wise,  though  our  ancestors 
judged  them  to  be  so,  if  I 
have  to  measure  them  by 
the  standard  of  wisdom 
set  up  by  these  philoso- 
phers. Let  them  keep, 
then,  for  themselves   that 


29 


name  of  "  wisdom,"  with 
all  its  pretentiousness  and 
unintelligibility,  if  they 
will  only  admit  that  these 
men  may  have  been  good. 
But  this  they  will  not  do; 
they  will  not  for  a  moment 
concede  that  any  one  can 
be  good  who  is  not,  in 
their  sense  of  the  word, 
wise.  Let  us  appeal,  then, 
to  plain  common  sense. 
From  this  point  of  view  it 
is  clear  that  those  who  so 
act  and  live  as  to  prove 
their  good  faith,  upright- 
ness, justice,  and  gener- 
osity, and  show  that  they 
harbor  no  covetousness, 
licentiousness,  or  presump- 
tion, and  have  great 
strength  of  character, — as 
30 


had  those  whom  I  have 
mentioned, —  ought  to  be 
called  the  good  men  they 
are  esteemed  to  be,  be- 
cause, as  far  as  men  can, 
they  follow  nature,  which 
is  the  best  guide  to  a  good 
life. 

For  it  seems  to  me  evi- 
dent that  from  the  very 
fact  of  our  birth  there  ex- 
ists among  us  all  a  certain 
fellowship  which  is  strong 
in  proportion  to  the  near- 
ness of  our  relationship. 
Thus  fellow-citizens  are 
more  closely  bound  to- 
gether than  foreigners,  rela- 
tives than  those  who  have 
no  tie  of  blood :  between 
such  nature  herself  begets 
friendship,  though  it  is  one 

31 


that  lacks  strength.  For  true 
friendship  has  this  advan- 
tage over  mere  closeness  of 
relationship,  that  from  the 
latter  good  will  may  be 
taken  away,  but  never 
from  friendship  ;  since 
when  good  will  is  lost  the 
very  name  of  friendship  is 
destroyed,  while  that  of 
relationship  remains.  How 
great  the  power  of  friend- 
ship is  can  best  be  seen 
from  this,  that  in  human 
fellowship,  wide  as  it  is, 
and  established  as  it  is  by 
nature  herself,  the  sphere 
of  true  and  tender  affec- 
tion, is  so  narrowed  that 
it  exists  only  between  two, 
or  at  most  a  few. 

For  friendship  is  noth- 


32 


ing  else  than  harmony  of 
opinion  and  sentiment 
about  all  things  human 
and  divine,  with  good-will 
and  affection  :  and  no  bet- 
ter thing  than  this,  it  seems 
to  me, —  unless  we  except 
wisdom, —  has  been  given 
to  man  by  the  immortal 
gods.  Some  prefer  wealth, 
some  health,  some  power, 
some  public  honors,  and 
very  many  pleasure.  But 
the  last  is,  as  an  end,  worthy 
only  of  beasts,  while  the 
others  are  precarious  and 
transitory,  and  depend  not 
so  much  upon  our  own 
devices  as  upon  luck. 
Some,  on  the  other  hand, 
regard  virtue  as  the  high- 
est good,  and  their  opin- 

^  33 


ion  is  a  noble  and  true  one; 
but  it  is  this  very  virtue 
that  begets  and  preserves 
friendship,  for  without  vir- 
tue there  can  be  no  friend- 
ship at  all. 

Nor  would  I,  like  some 
philosophers,^'^  define  vir- 
tue, as  I  here  employ  the 
word,  in  grandiloquent 
terms,  but  rather  in  ac- 
cordance with  our  ordin- 
ary habits  of  life  and 
speech,  citing  as  virtuous 
men  those  who  have  been 
esteemed  to  be  so  —  the 
Pauli,  the  Catos,  the  Galli, 
the  Scipios,  the  Phili.  Or- 
dinary human  life  finds 
such  men  quite  good 
enough ;  and  we  may,  ac- 
cordingly, disregard  those 

34 


ideal  perfect  beings  3°  whom 
nobody  has  ever  seen. 

Among  these  good  men 
of  real  Hfe,  however,  friend- 
ship has  advantages  almost 
more  numerous  than  I  can 
name.  For,  in  the  first 
place,  what  Hfe  can  be 
worth  living,  as  Ennius^' 
says,  which  lacks  the  calm 
joy  which  flows  from  the 
mutual  affection  of  friend- 
ship ?  What  is  sweeter 
than  the  possession  of  a 
friend  with  whom  one  can 
commune  as  withone'sown 
soul  ^  What  enjoyment 
would  there  be  in  prosper- 
ity without  one  to  rejoice 
in  your  good  fortune  as 
much  as  you  do  yourself? 
And  adversity  could  hardly 

35 


be  endured  without  the 
sympathetic  friend  who  is 
more  grieved  than  you  by 
your  misfortune.  In  short, 
the  other  things  that  men 
strive  for  are  fitted,  almost 
always,  for  particular  ends 
only  —  wealth  for  use, 
power  for  the  securing  of 
homage,  honors  for  ap- 
plause, pleasures  for  de- 
light, health  for  freedom 
from  pain  and  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  the  bodily  pow- 
ers. Friendship,  on  the 
other  hand,  combines  many 
advantages.  Wherever 
you  turn  it  is  at  hand. 
From  no  place  is  it  shut 
out.  It  is  never  unseason- 
able. It  never  annoys. 
And  thus,  as  the  proverb 


says,  we  have  as  many 
uses  for  friendship  as  for 
fire  and  water.  Nor  do  I 
speak  now  of  friendship 
of  the  common  and  ordin- 
ary sort, —  though  this  is 
both  pleasant  and  service- 
able,—  but  of  true  and  per- 
fect love,  like  that  of  the 
few  whose  mutual  affec- 
tion has  become  famous. 
Friendship  such  as  this 
makes  prosperity  more 
bright,  and  by  dividing 
and  sharing  adversity  light- 
ens its  weight.'' 

Friendship,  moreover, 
not  only  comprises  the 
most  numerous  and  im- 
portant practical  advan- 
tages, but  is  also  preemin- 
ent in  this,  that  it  throws 


37 


the  light  of  a  good  hope 
forward  into  the  future,  and 
does  not  suffer  us  to  be- 
come down-hearted  or  de- 
pressed. For  he  who 
beholds  the  face  of  a  true 
friend  sees,  as  it  were,  a 
duplicate  of  himself  And 
so,  though  absent,  they  are 
present;  though  needy  they 
do  not  lack;  though  weak 
they  are  strong;  and,  most 
marvelous  of  all,  though 
dead  they  yet  live:  with 
such  regard,  such  fond 
recollections,  such  tender 
love  are  they  followed  by 
their  friends.  Thus  the 
death  of  those  who  depart 
seems  blessed,  and  the  life 
of  those  who  remain  worthy 
of  praise. 

38 


If  you  should  take  away 
from  nature  the  bond  of 
good-will  no  home  or  city 
could  survive,  nor  could 
even  the  cultivation  of  the 
fields  go  on.  Indeed,  if 
there  is  any  doubt  about 
the  great  power  of  friend- 
ship and  harmony,  it  can 
be  removed  by  a  glance 
at  the  obvious  results  of 
strife  and  discord ;  for 
what  house  is  so  stable, 
what  state  so  firmly  based, 
that  it  cannot  be  over- 
thrown to  its  foundations 
by  disaffection  and  malice? 
From  this  you  can  judge 
of  the  value  of  friendship. 
A  certain  philosopher ^^  of 
Agrigentum,  it  is  said, 
composed     a     poem,     in 

39 


Greek,  in  which  he  sang 
that  all  things  throughout 
the  universe  that  move 
apart  are  dissevered  by 
discord,  while  those  that 
stand  united  are  drawn  to- 
gether by  love.  But  this 
all  mortals  understand,  and 
prove  its  truth  by  their 
conduct.  (  For  if  some  one 
does  a  notable  service  to 
a  friend,  either  by  seeking 
to  incur  or  by  sharing  his 
dangers,  who  does  not  be- 
stow upon  such  an  act  the 
highest  praise  '?j  What 
shouts  shook  the  whole 
theater  on  the  presentation 
of  the  new  play^^  of  my 
friend  and  guest  Marcus 
Pacuvius^^  when  —  the 
king  not  knowing  which 
40 


was  Orestes  —  Pylades  de- 
clared that  he  was  Orestes 
in  order  that  he  might  be 
slain  in  his  friend's  stead, 
while  Orestes  insisted  that 
he  was  the  true  Orestes — 
as  in  fact  he  was !  The 
spectators  rose  to  their  feet, 
and  applauded  to  the  echo 
this  unreal  scene :  what 
may  we  suppose  they 
would  have  done  if  they 
had  seen  the  reality?  In 
this  episode  nature  herself 
showed  her  power  when 
men  approved  in  another 
conduct  to  which  they 
would  not  have  been  equal 
themselves. 

I  have   now   stated,   as 
well,  I  think,  as  I  can,  my 
thoughts  about  friendship. 
41 


If  I  have  left  anything  un- 
said—  and  I  think  there 
is  much  that  might  be  ad- 
ded—  seek  it,  if  you  will, 
from  those  who  make 
a  business  of  such  dis- 
courses. 

Fannius.  We  would 
rather  hear  it  from  you : 
though  I  have  often  put 
questions  to  those  philos- 
ophers and  heard  their  an- 
swers with  pleasure.  Your 
discourse,  however,  has  a 
somewhat  different  stamp. 

ScAEVOLA.  You  would 
say  that  more  emphatic- 
ally, Fannius,  if  you  had 
been  present  recently  in 
the  gardens  of  Scipio  when 
the  conversation  turned 
on  the  Republic.  What 
42 


an  advocate  of  justice  he 
was  when  he  answered  the 
studied  speech  of  Philus ! 

Fannius.  It  was  easy 
for  the  most  just  of  men 
to  defend  justice. 

ScAEVOLA.  And  why 
not  friendship  *?  Is  it  not 
easy  for  him  to  defend 
it  who  has  attained  the 
highest  renown  for  pre- 
serving it  with  the  utmost 
fidelity,  constancy,  and 
equity? 

Laelius.  But  this  is  to 
employ  force  I  For  what 
matters  it  how  you  com- 
pel me  ? — I  amcompelled 
beyond  a  doubt.  For  it  is 
not  easy,  nor  is  it  right, 
to  refuse  the  earnest  re- 
quest of  one's  sons-in-law, 

43 


especially  when  they  have 
so  good  a  case. 

In  thinking  of  friend- 
ship, then,  the  question 
that  has  most  often  and 
forcibly  occurred  to  me  is 
this  :  whether  friendship  is 
to  be  sought  because  of  a 
feeling  of  weakness  and 
need,  in  order  that  by  the 
giving  and  receiving  of 
favors,  each  may  obtain 
from  his  friend  what  he  is 
least  able  to  do  for  himself, 
and,  in  turn,  may  render 
his  friend  the  same  aid; 
or  whether  friendship  — 
though  this  mutual  aid- 
giving  is  one  of  its  essen- 
tial characteristics  —  has 
not  another  cause  which  is 
loftier,   more    lovely,   and 

44 


founded  more  deeply  in 
the  very  nature  of  man."^ 
For  the  inner  sentiment 
of  love,  from  which,  in 
Latin,35  ^h^  word  "  friend- 
ship" is  derived,  is  the 
chief  source  of  all  outward 
friendly  conduct.  Profit, 
indeed,  is  often  gained 
from  those  who  are  hon- 
ored in  pretended  friend- 
ship only,  and  are  esteemed 
only  because  they  relieve 
the  needs  of  their  intim- 
ates; in  true  friendship,  on 
the  contrary,  there  is  no 
feigning,  no  deceit,  but 
whatever  is  done  comes 
from  a  true  heart  and  a 
free  will.  Wherefore  it 
seems  to  me  to  spring 
from  nature  herself  rather 

45 


than  from  a  feeling  of 
need  —  from  a  natural  in- 
clination together  with  a 
certain  consciousness  of 
loving  rather  than  from 
calculation  of  the  advan- 
tages that  may  flow  from 
it. 

Its  true  character  may,  in 
fact,  be  perceived  even  in 
some  brutes,  for  they  love 
their  offspring  for  a  time 
and  are,  in  turn,  so  loved 
by  them  that  this  natural 
affection  is  easily  discerned. 
In  man,  of  course,  this  is 
much  more  clear;  first 
of  all  in  the  natural  af- 
fection which  exists  be- 
tween parents  and  chil- 
dren, and  which  can  be 
dissolved  only  by  some 
46 


horrible  crime;  and  then 
in  that  similar  feeling  of 
love  which  springs  up 
when  we  find  some  one 
whose  nature  and  habits 
are  in  harmony  with  our 
own  and  in  whom  we 
think  we  see  a  bright  ex- 
ample of  integrity  and 
virtue.  For  there  is  no- 
thing more  lovable  than 
virtue,  nothing  that  more 
quickly  wins  affection ; 
in  fact,  for  their  virtue 
and  uprightness  we  love 
even  those  whom  we  have 
never  seen.  Who  does 
not  hold  the  memory  of 
Caius  Fabricius  and  Man- 
ius  Curius  in  affectionate 
regard,  though  he  never 
saw  them  ?    And  who,  on 

47 


the  other  hand,  does  not 
loathe  Tarquinius  Super- 
bus  3^,  Spurius  Cassius37, 
and  Spurius  MaeHus^^? 
Two  generals,  Pyrrhus  ^^ 
and  Hannibal  ^°  fought  for 
the  conquest  of  Italy  :  the 
former  we  respect  for  his 
integrity,  the  latter  we  de- 
test for  his  cruelty.  But  if 
the  power  of  uprightness 
is  so  great  that  we  are  con- 
strained to  love  it  in  those 
whom  we  have  never  seen, 
and  even  (which  is  more 
striking)  in  an  enemy,  is  it 
wonderful  that  the  souls  of 
men  are  moved  when  they 
see  the  virtue  and  good- 
ness of  those  with  whom 
they  can  be  intimate? 
Love  is,  of  course, 
48 


strengthened  by  the  receipt 
of  favors,  by  the  percep- 
tion of  affection,  and  by 
habitual  intercourse ;  and 
when  these  are  added  to 
the  original  loving  im- 
pulse of  the  heart  good 
will  begins  to  glow  with 
extraordinary  ardor.  But 
if  any  think  that  it  is  be- 
gotten by  a  sense  of  need 
—  in  order  to  have  a  friend 
who  may  give  us  what 
we  lack  —  they  assign  to 
friendship,  as  it  were,  a 
mean  and  ignoble  origin 
in  tracing  its  birth  to  pov- 
erty and  want.  If  this 
view  of  its  origin  were 
true,  then  each  one  would 
be  fitted  for  friendship  in 
proportion    to  the   scanti- 

i  49 


ness  of  his  resources;  but 
this  is  far  from  being  the 
case.  For  it  is  when  one 
relies  chiefly  upon  him- 
self and  is  so  thoroughly 
equipped  with  virtue  and 
wisdom  that  he  has  need 
of  no  one,  and  regards 
his  fortunes  as  dependent 
upon  himself  alone,  that 
he  excels  in  seeking  and  in 
preserving  affection.  How 
absurd  not  to  admit  this  I 
Did  Africanus  have  need 
of  me  ?  No,  by  Hercules  I 
—  nor  I  of  him.  For  I 
was  drawn  to  him  by  ad- 
miration of  his  virtuCj'^and 
he  loved  me  for  the  good 
opinion  which,  perhaps, 
he  had  formed  of  my 
character.  J  Habitual  inter- 
so 


course  only  strengthened 
our  mutual  good-will. 

But  although  the  prac- 
tical advantages  that  at- 
tended it  were  many  and 
great,  the  true  source  of 
our  friendship  did  not  lie 
in  the  hope  of  obtaining 
them.  We  are  not  kind 
and  generous  in  order  that 
we  may  exact  a  return  — 
for  we  do  not  put  our 
good-will  out  at  usury,  but 
are  by  nature  inclined  to 
generosity;  and  in  the 
same  way,  it  seems  to  me, 
friendship  should  be 
sought  not  from  the  hope 
of  pay  but  for  the  profit 
that  is  found  in  love  it- 
self 

From       this      opinion 

SI 


those '^^  who,  like  the 
brutes,  refer  everything  to 
pleasure  emphatically  dis- 
sent. Nor  is  this  strange. 
For  men  who  have  fixed 
all  their  thoughts  upon  an 
end  so  low  and  so  ignoble 
cannot  lift  them  to  what 
is  exalted,  noble,  and  di- 
vine. Accordingly,  we  may 
dismiss  these  philosophers 
from  our  discussion;  and 
we  will  assume  it  to  be 
granted  that  the  sentiment 
of  love  and  the  emotion 
of  affectionate  good-will 
are  begotten  in  us  by 
human  nature  itself,  as 
soon  as  we  clearly  see  up- 
rightness of  character  in 
others.  Those  who  seek 
this  mutual   affection  are 

52 


drawn  together  and  devote 
themselves  to  one  another, 
that  each  may  enjoy  the 
character  and  companion- 
ship of  the  one  he  has  be- 
gun to  love.^  In  love  there 
is  equality  in  all  respects, 
and  each  is  more  eager  to 
confer  favors  upon  his 
friend  than  to  demand 
them  from  him ;  in  this 
matter  there  is,  indeed,  an 
honorable  rivalry  between 
them./ 

Thus  will  the  greatest 
advantages  be  obtained 
from  friendship,  and  its  de- 
rivation from  nature,  rather 
than  from  need,  will  be 
more  noble  and  more  real. 
For  if  friendships  were 
cemented    by  utility,   the 

53 


impairment  of  their  util- 
ity by  change  of  circum- 
stances would  dissolve 
them;  but  true  friendships 
are  eternal,  because  nature 
cannot  change. 

This  will  suffice  for  the 
origin  of  friendship,  unless 
you  have  something  to 
say  in  reply  to  my  argu- 
ment. 

Fannius.  Nay,  go  on, 
Laelius ;  and  I  say  this,  as 
I  have  a  right  to  do,  both 
for  Scaevola  and  myself, 
since  he  is  the  younger. 

Scaevola.  I  assent  to 
that;  and  so  let  us  listen. 

Laelius.  You  shall  hear, 
then,  best  of  men,  the 
opinions  that  Scipio  and 
I    expressed    in    our    fre- 

54 


quent conversations  on  this 
theme.  He  thought,  it  is 
true,  that  nothing  is  more 
difficult  than  to  retain 
friendship  unimpaired  un- 
til the  end  of  life.  For  it 
may  often  happen  that 
the  private  interests  of 
friends  conflict,  or  that 
they  differ  in  opinion  on 
public  affairs.  Our  habits 
and  dispositions,  too,  he 
used  to  say,  change  —  a 
result  sometimes  of  ad- 
versity, sometimes  of  ad- 
vancing years.  And  as 
an  illustration  of  this  he 
would  cite  the  experiences 
of  childhood,  for  boys  who 
love  one  another  most  ar- 
dently often  lay  aside  at 
the    same    time   the    garb 

55 


of  youth  and  their  mu- 
tual affection.  Even  if 
these  early  loves  last  un- 
til the  dawn  of  manhood, 
they  are  apt  to  be  de- 
stroyed either  by  rivalry 
in  marriage,  or  competi- 
tion for  some  other  ad- 
vantage which  both  the 
friends  cannot  obtain.  If 
they  endure  still  longer, 
they  are  very  likely  to 
come  to  grief  if  the  friends 
happen  to  contend  for  the 
same  public  honors.  For 
there  is,  in  many  cases,  no 
greater  enemy  of  friend- 
ship than  greed  of  gain  ; 
and  between  many  excel- 
lent men,  who  have  been 
the  best  of  friends,  bitter 
hatred  is  engendered  by 
56 


the  struggle  for  place  and 
fame.  Strong  and  often 
just  dislikes,  too,  are  be- 
gotten, when  friends  are 
asked  for  something  that 
they  cannot  rightly  grant, 
as,  for  example,  aid  in  the 
gratification  of  lust  or  as- 
sistance in  a  crime.  Those 
who  deny  such  requests, 
however  virtuously,  are 
charged,  by  the  friends 
they  decline  to  aid,  with 
treason  to  friendship;  while 
those  who  make  such  de- 
mands profess,  by  the  very 
fact,  that  they  are  willing 
to  do  anything  whatever 
for  a  friend's  sake.  Such 
quarrels,  when  habitual, 
not  only  destroy  intimacy 
but  also  often  beget   un- 

57 


dying  hate.  In  fact,  so 
many  chances  of  ship- 
wreck, Scipiowouldsay,  lie 
before  friendship,  that  to 
escape  them  all,  and  come 
safely  into  port,  would 
seem  to  depend  not  only 
upon  exceptional  wisdom 
but  also  upon  rare  good 
luck. 

Let  us,  then, f  consider 
first,  if  you  will,"  how  far 
love  of  our  friends  ought 
to  influence  our  conductTj 
For  example,  if  Corio- 
lanus'^^  had  friends  ought 
they  to  have  borne  arms 
with  him  against  their  na- 
tive land*?  Ought  the 
friends  of  Viscellinus^^  or 
those  of  Maelius,  both  of 
whom  aimed  at  regal  pow- 

58 


er,  to  have  aided  them  in 
their  designs?  We  have 
seen  how  Tiberius  Grac- 
chus'^'^  was  abandoned  by 
Quintus  Tubero^5  ^iud 
other  friends  when  he  dis- 
turbed the  peace  of  the 
Republic.  Yet  Caius  Blos- 
sius^^ofCumse, — the  guest 
of  your  family,  Scaevola, 
—  when  he  came  to  me, 
then  the  legal  adviser  of 
Laenatus  and  Rupilius  the 
consuls,  seeking  to  avert 
punishment,  offered  as  the 
reason  why  I  should  par- 
don him  that  he  was  so 
strongly  attached  to  Tibe- 
rius Gracchus  that  he 
thought  that  he  ought 
to  do  whatever  Gracchus 
wished.  But  I  said  to  him: 

59 


"  Even  if  he  had  wished 
you  to  set  fire  to  the  Capi- 
tol ?  "  "  He  would  never 
have  desired  such  a  thing," 
he  replied,  "but  if  he  had 
desired  it  I  would  have 
done  it."  That  was  the 
answer  of  a  scoundrel  I 
And,  by  Hercules,  his  con- 
duct did  not  belie,  but 
rather  surpassed,  his  words; 
for  instead  of  giving  obe- 
dient assent  to  the  auda- 
cious scheme  of  Gracchus 
he  took  a  commanding 
part  in  it,  showing  himself 
to  be  a  leader  rather  than 
a  follower  of  his  madness. 
As  a  result  of  this  folly, 
terrified  by  the  novel  ju- 
dicial proceedings  which 
were  set  on  foot  against 
60 


him  and  his  fellows,  he 
fled  to  Asia,  took  refuge 
among  our  enemies,  and 
finally  paid  a  heavy  and 
just  penalty  for  his  crime. 
It  is,  then,  no  excuse 
for  wrong-doing  to  say  that 
you  sinned  for  a  friend's 
sake;  indeed,  since  the  be- 
lief of  your  friend  in  your 
virtue  may  have  been  the 
ground  of  his  friendship, 
it  is  hard  for  that  friend- 
ship to  endure  when  you 
have  wandered  from  vir- 
tue's ways.  In  fact,  if  we 
should  hold  it  to  be  right 
to  grant  whatever  our 
friends  wish,  and  to  ask 
from  them  whatever  we 
desire,  we  should  all  need 
to    be   endowed   with   ab- 


6i 


solute  wisdom  to  keep 
our  friendships  free  from 
blame.  The  friends  we 
are  talking  about,  how- 
ever, are  not  these  ideal 
wise  men,  but  real  men 
whom  we  know,  whom 
we  have  seen  with  our  _ 
own  eyes,  or  of  whom  we 
have  heard,  and  who  are 
familiar  figures  in  com- 
mon life.  It  is  from  these 
that  our  examples  must 
be  taken;  and  those  should 
be  selected  who  approach 
most  closely  to  true  wis- 
dom. We  know,  from 
what  our  fathers  have 
handed  down  to  us,  that 
Aemilius'^^  was  very  inti- 
mate with  Luscinus,'^^  for 
they  were  twice  consuls  to- 
62 


gether,  and  colleagues  in 
the  censorship  ;  and  there 
is  a  tradition,  also,  that 
Manius  Curius  and  Ti- 
berius Coruncanius  were 
close  friends  of  these  men 
and  of  each  other.  But 
we  cannot  imagine  that 
either  of  these  men  would 
have  demanded  from  his 
friend  anything  that  was 
contrary  to  good  faith,  to 
the  obligations  of  an  oath, 
or  to  the  best  interests  of 
the  State.  What  need  is 
there  of  saying  of  such 
men  that  if  one  of  them 
had  demanded  anything 
of  that  kind  from  his  friend 
he  would  not  have  ob- 
tained it?  For  they  were 
men  of  the  utmost  integ- 
63 


rity ;  and  it  is  as  wrong  to 
grant  an  evil  request  as  to 
make  it.  Yet  Caius  Car- 
bo  ^9  and  Cai us  Cato  5°  sup- 
ported Tiberius  Gracchus, 
as  did  also  his  brother 
Caius,^'  at  the  time  with 
Httle  ardor,  it  is  true,  but 
now  most  zealously. 

Let  this  then  be  estab- 
lished as  a  law  of  friend- 
ship, that  we  should  neither 
ask  of  our  friends,  nor  do 
at  their  request,  anything 
that  is  dishonorable ;  and 
the  plea  that  one  has  acted 
in  a  friend's  behalf  is  a 
base  excuse  to  offer  for  any 
crime,  and  particularly  for 
an  offense  against  the  State. 
For  the  present  situation 
of  the  republic  is  such, 
64 


Fannius  and  Scaevola,  that 
we  ought  to  look  far  ahead 
for  the  dangers  that  may 
threaten  it.  Already  it 
has,  to  some  extent,  occu- 
pied a  different  ground 
and  followed  a  different 
course  from  those  pre- 
scribed by  the  customs  of 
our  ancestors.  Tiberius 
Gracchus  attempted  to  be- 
come king;  and  in  fact  he 
did  exercise  regal  power 
for  a  few  months.  When 
had  the  Roman  people 
heard  or  seen  anything 
like  this?  What,  even  af- 
ter his  death,  the  friends 
and  relatives  who  followed 
him  did  to  Publius  Scipio^^ 
I  cannot  mention  without 
tears.  We  have  borne 
5  65 


with  Carbo  "  as  well  as  we 
could,  on  account  of  the 
recent  punishment  of  Ti- 
berius Gracchus;  but  what 
I  anticipate  from  the  trib- 
unate of  Caius  Gracchus 
I  do  not  care  to  say. 

Moreover,  another  evil 
is  creeping  upon  us;  and 
it  is  the  tendency  of  such 
evils,  when  once  they  have 
sprung  up,  to  move  more 
and  more  swiftly  to  the 
catastrophe.  For  even  be- 
fore this  you  saw,  in  the 
matter  of  the  ballot,  how 
great  degeneracy  was 
shown  first  in  the  Gabi- 
nian  law,  and  two  years 
later  in  the  Cassian.^'^  Al- 
ready I  seem  to  see  the 
people  alienated  from  the 

66 


senate,  and  the  most  im- 
portant affairs  of  state  set- 
tled by  the  caprice  of  the 
mob;  for  more  will  know 
how  these  revolutionary 
movements  may  be  effect- 
ed than  how  to  prevent 
them. 

But  why  do  I  mention 
these  things?  Because  no 
one  attempts  to  compass 
such  ends  without  the  aid 
of  associates.  Good  men 
should,  therefore,  be  ad- 
vised that  if  by  any  chance 
they  unwittingly  contract 
such  friendships,  they  need 
not  feel  so  bound  by  them 
that  they  cannot  abandon 
friends  who  are  guilty  of 
a  serious  offense ;  and  pun- 
ishment should  be  visited 
67 


on  all  the  guilty  —  as  well 
upon  those  who  are  merely 
followers  as  upon  those 
who  are  leaders  in  the 
crime.  Who,  in  all  Greece, 
was  more  renowned  than 
Themistocles^ss  who  more 

powerful?  Yet  when,  as 
commander  in  the  Persian 
war,  he  had  freed  Greece 
from  servitude,  and 
through  envy  had  been 
driven  into  exile,  he  did 
not  bear  as  he  ought  the 
injuries  inflicted  by  his  un- 
grateful country.  He  did 
what  twenty  years  before 
Coriolanus  had  done  at 
Rome  [sought  refuge  with 
his  country's  enemies]. 
But  neither  of  these  men 
found  any  one  among  his 

68 


fellow-citizens  who  would 
aid  him  in  his  attack  up- 
on his  native  land;  and  so 
both  committed  suicide. 
Such  association  with  evil- 
doers, therefore,  is  not  to  be 
protected  by  the  plea  of 
friendship,  but  is  rather  to 
be  punished  with  the  ut- 
most severity  lest  any  one 
should  imagine  that  it  is 
permissible  to  follow  a 
friend  even  to  the  point 
of  making  war  upon  one's 
country  —  a  degree  of 
baseness  which,  as  things 
are  going  now,  may,  for 
aught  I  know,  be  reached 
in  the  future.  For  I  am 
no  less  anxious  about  the 
course  of  public  affairs 
after  my  death  than  I 
69 


am    about    their    present 
condition. 

Let  this,  then,  be  held 
to  be  the  first  law  of 
friendship,  that  we  should 
ask  from  our  friends  only 
what  is  right,  and  should 
do  for  them  only  what 
can  honorably  be  granted. 
Nor  should  we  wait  until 
we  are  asked;  there  should 
be  eagerness  and  no  delay 
in  such  service.  fWe 
should  venture  also  to 
give  advice  freely;  for  in 
friendship  the  influence  of 
friends  who  advise  wisely 
may  be  of  great  value^ 
Such  admonition  should^ 
be  given  frankly,  and  even 
sharply,  if  the  occasion 
demands  severity,  and 
70 


when    given     should     be 
obeyed. 

Certain  philosophers, 
who  are  regarded  as  wise 
men,  I  am  told,  by  the 
Greeks,  entertain  strange 
opinions  on  this  topic — 
for  there  is  nothing  which 
they  do  not  argue  about 
with  subtlety :  some, 
namely,  hold  that  very 
close  friendships  are  to  be 
avoided  lest  it  should  be- 
come necessary  for  one  to 
be  anxious  about  others; 
that  each  has  enough,  and 
more  than  enough,  to  do  in 
looki ng  after  h is  own  aifairs, 
while  to  be  involved  over- 
much in  the  concerns  of 
others  is  an  annoyance; 
that  friendship  is  most 
71 


pleasant  when  it  is  driven 
with  loose  reins,  which  can 
be  tightened  or  relaxed  at 
pleasure;  and  that  the  chief 
element  in  a  happy  life  is 
freedom  from  care,  which 
the  soul  cannot  enjoy  if 
it  is,  as  it  were,  in  travail 
for  many  friends.  Others, 
they  say,  express  a  view 
which  seems  to  me  much 
less  worthy  of  human  na- 
ture,— and  which  I  briefly 
criticized  a  little  while  ago, 
— namely,  that  friendships 
are  to  be  sought  for  the 
sake  of  the  protection  and 
aid  which  they  furnish  and 
not  of  good-will  and  affec- 
tion, and  that  the  less  self- 
trust  and  vigor  a  man  has 
the  more  apt  he  is  to  look 
72 


for  friends;  from  which  it 
follows  that  women  from 
their  feebleness  are  more 
likely  than  men  are  to  seek 
the  protection  afforded  by 
friendships,  as  are  also  the 
poor  more  than  the  rich, 
and  the  unfortunate  more 
than  those  who  are  es- 
teemed lucky. 

O  marvelous  wisdom  I 
£To  rob  life  of  friendship  — 
the  best  and  sweetest  gift 
of  the  immortal  gods  — 
would  be  like  robbing  the 
heavens  of  the  sun  I  ]  For 
what  is  that  boaste3  free- 
dom from  care  ?  It  has 
an  alluring  aspect,  but  it 
often  ought  to  be  re- 
nounced ;  since  it  is  not 
right  to  refuse  to  support 


a  good  cause  or  do  an 
honorable  act,  or  to  aban- 
don one  that  has  been  un- 
dertaken, simply  to  avoid 
trouble.  If  we  are  to  shun 
care,  virtue  also  must  be 
shunned,  since  it  is,  of 
necessity,  at  considerable 
pains  to  spurn  and  hate 
its  opposites,  as  goodness 
spurns  and  hates  wicked- 
ness, moderation  lust,  and 
courage  cowardice.  Thus, 
as  you  may  see,  the  just 
are  most  distressed  by  in- 
justice, the  brave  by  pusil- 
lanimity, and  the  virtuous 
by  license.  To  rejoice  in 
goodness  and  be  grieved 
by  its  opposite  is,  in  fact, 
an  essential  mark  of  a  well- 
ordered  mind. 

74 


And  so  if  grief  of  heart 
and  mind  comes  to  the 
wise  man, —  as  come  it 
must,  unless  all  human 
kindness  be  torn  from  his 
soul, —  why  should  we  to- 
tally remove  friendship 
from  our  lives  lest  it  bring 
us  some  annoyance  '?  For 
when  the  emotions  of  the 
soul  are  taken  away  what 
difference  is  there  —  I  will 
not  say  between  men  and 
cattle,  but  between  men 
and  stocks  and  stones'? 
Wherefore  give  no  heed 
to  those  who  pretend  that 
virtue  is  something  hard 
and,  so  to  say,  tough  as 
steel;  it  is  in  many  matters, 
and  especially  in  friend- 
ship, soft  and    so  ductile 

75 


that  it  can,  as  it  were,  ex- 
pand to  fit  the  good  for- 
tune of  a  friend  or  contract 
to  suit  his  griefs.  Accord- 
ingly even  that  profound 
distress  which  must  often 
be  incurred  for  a  friend's 
sake  is  not  of  sufficient 
weight  to  drive  friendship 
out  of  our  lives,  any  more 
than  the  occasional  cares 
and  annoyances  which  at- 
tend the  virtues  are  ade- 
quate grounds  for  renounc- 
ing them. 

As  I  have  already  said, 
ji  the  clear  perception  of  a 
virtuous  characterto  which 
a  kindred  spirit  can  attach 
and  devote  itself  produces 
friendship,  and  when  this 
happens  love  necessarily 
76 


springs  into  beingi  For 
what  can  be  so  absurd 
as  to  be  delighted  by 
many  intrinsically  worth- 
less things,  such  as  public 
honors,  fame,  fine  houses, 
and  the  clothingand  adorn- 
ment of  the  body,  and  not 
to  be  entranced  by  a  soul 
endowed  with  virtue — one 
that  can  love  and  return 
love  for  love^  Nothing 
is  more  delightful  than 
the  repaying  of  good-will, 
nothing  sweeter  than  the 
interchange  of  personal  af- 
fection and  good  offices. 
Nay,  if  we  add  to  this,  as 
we  rightly  may,  that  there 
is  nothing  that  so  allures 
and  draws  other  things  to 
itself  as  similarity  of  char- 

77 


acter  does  to  friendship,  it 
must  surely  be  granted 
that  the  good  love  and  at- 
tract the  good  as  if  they 
were  joined  to  them  by 
kinship  and  by  nature;  for 
nature  is  very  desirous  of 
its  like  and  quick  to 
grasp  it. 

This,  then,  in  my  opin- 
ion, is  certain,  Fannius  and 
Scaevola,  that  between  the 
good  mutual  good-will  is, 
as  it  were,  a  necessity,  and 
has  been  decreed  by  nature 
to  be  the  fountain-head  of 
friendship.  But  the  same 
kindly  feeling  prevails 
throughout  the  mass  of 
mankind.  For  virtue  is 
not  a  thing  apart  from 
human  nature,  nor  is  it 
78 


unserviceable,  or  proud.  It 
even  guards  whole  nations 
and  gives  them  the  wisest 
counsel;  and  this  it  surely 
would  not  do  if  it  were 
averse  to  the  love  of  man- 
kind in  general. 

Now  the  most  lovely 
bond  of  friendship  is  sev- 
ered by  those  who  falsely 
base  it  on  utility;  for  it  is 
not  so  much  the  benefit 
that  is  obtained  from  a 
friend  that  delights  us  as 
that  friend's  love  itself; 
and  what  is  done  for  us 
by  a  friend  gives  pleasure 
only  when  it  is  done  from 
affection.  In  fact,  so  far 
is  it  from  being  true  that 
friendships  are  fostered  by 
a  sense  of  need,  that  those 

79 


who  on  account  of  their 
wealth,  resources,  and  espe- 
cially their  virtue  — which 
is  the  greatest  safeguard  — 
have  least  need  of  others 
are  most  generous  and  Hb- 
eral.  I  am  not  sure,  in- 
deed, that  it  would  be  well 
that  our  friends  should 
never  have  need  of  us  at 
all.  For  how  could  the 
strength  of  our  affection 
have  been  shown  if  Scipio 
had  never,  at  home  or  in 
the  field,  required  my 
counsel  and  assistance  ^ 
Our  friendship,  however, 
did  not  spring  from  the 
service,  but  rather  the  ser- 
vice from  our  friendship. 

Men    whose    lives    are 
devoted  to  pleasure  ought 
80 


not,  therefore,  to  be  list- 
ened to  when  they  talk 
about  friendship,  of  which 
they  know  nothing  either 
in  theory  or  in  practice. 
For  who,  by  the  faith  of 
gods  and  men,  would  be 
willing  to  accept  a  life  of 
luxury  and  a  superabund- 
ance of  all  good  things 
on  the  condition  that  he 
should  love  no  one  nor  be 
loved  by  any  I  Only  ty- 
rants live  a  life  like  that  — 
devoid  of  confidence,  af- 
fection, and  belief  in  any 
steadfast  good-will  :  all  is 
suspicion  and  anxiety,  and 
there  is  no  place  for  friend- 
ship. For  who  can  love 
one  whom  he  fears,  or  one 
by  whom  he  thinks  that  he 

tJ  8i 


is  feared?  Yet  tyrants 
are  flattered  with  a  false 
show  of  friendship  as  long 
as  they  can  be  made  of 
use;  but  if,  as  often  hap- 
pens, they  are  overthrown, 
their  lack  of  true  friends 
is  at  once  manifest.  Thus 
Tarquin,  when  he  was  ex- 
iled, is  said  to  have  de- 
clared that  he  could  then 
tell  which  of  his  friends 
were  faithful  and  which 
false,  since  he  could  no 
longer  bestow  favors  upon 
either;  though  I  doubt 
whether  a  man  so  proud 
and  insolent  could  have 
had  any  friends  at  all. 

While  this   man's  evil 
character  made  it  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  have  friends, 
82 


it  is  also  true  that  the 
wealth  and  power  of  those 
in  high  station  often  pre- 
vent the  formation  of  faith- 
ful friendships.  For  not 
only  is  Fortune  herself 
blind,  but  she  also  often 
blinds  those  whom  she  em- 
braces. And  so  her  favor- 
ites are  almost  always  mad 
with  pride  and  insolence; 
nor  is  there  anything  in 
creation  more  unbearable 
than  a  fool  favored  by  for- 
tune. One  even  sees  many, 
who  once  possessed  a  ge- 
nial character,  so  changed 
by  the  acquisition  of  pow- 
er, civil  authority,  and 
wealth,  that  they  scorn  old 
friendships  and  become  ab- 
sorbed in  new.  But,  when 
83 


they  have  abundant  re- 
sources, ability,  and  v/ealth, 
what  can  be  more  silly  than 
to  procure  horses,  servants, 
costly  clothing,  rare  vases, 
and  everything  else  that 
money  can  buy,  yet  not  to 
procure  friends,  who  are, 
so  to  say,  the  best  and 
choicest  furniture  of  life  ? 
For  when  they  buy  those 
other  material  things  they 
know  not  for  whom  they 
buy  them,  nor 'for  whose 
sake  they  toil;  since  every- 
thing of  that  kind  belongs 
to  him  who  has  the  power 
to  take  it.  Friendships,  on 
the  other  hand,  are  for  each 
of  us  a  fixed  and  absolute 
possession ;  so  that  even 
with  all  the  so-called  gifts 


of  fortune,  a  life  unadorned 
and  deserted  by  friends 
cannot  be  happy.  But 
enough  on  this  topic. 

We  must  now  deter- 
mine what  are  the  limits  of 
friendship  and,  as  it  were, 
the  bounds  of  love.  On 
this  point  I  find  that  three 
opinions  are  proposed, 
none  of  which  commands 
my  approval.  The  first  is, 
that  we  should  be  disposed 
toward  our  friends  exact- 
ly as  we  are  toward  our- 
selves; the  second,  that  we 
should  have  precisely  the 
same  amount  of  good-will 
toward  them  that  they 
have  toward  us;  and  the 
third,  that  at  whatever 
value  one  rates  himself 
85 


he  should  be  rated  by  his 
friends. 

With  no  one  of  these 
three  opinions  can  I  en- 
tirely agree.  It  is  not  true, 
as  the  first  would  have  it, 
that  we  should  feel  toward 
a  friend  only  just  what  we 
feel  toward  ourselves;  for 
how  many  things  we  are 
ready  to  do  for  our  friends 
which  we  would  never  do 
for  ourselves  I  In  their 
behalf  we  will  request,  and 
even  beg,  favors  of  those 
whom  we  despise,  or  at- 
tack some  one  bitterly  or 
even  with  violence  —  acts 
which  would  not  be  proper 
if  done  for  ourselves  but 
which  are  most  honorable 
when    performed   for  our 

86 


friends.  There  are  also 
many  ways  in  which  good 
men  diminish  their  own 
comforts,  and  suffer  them 
to  be  diminished,  in  or- 
der that  their  friends  may 
enjoy  them  instead. 

The  second  opinion, 
which  limits  friendship  to 
an  exactly  equal  inter- 
change of  good-will  and 
good  offices,  is  also  inad- 
missible ;  for  it  minutely 
and  meanly  reduces  affec- 
tion to  a  matter  of  reckon- 
ing—  a  balancing  of  debits 
and  credits.  True  friend- 
ship, on  the  other  hand, 
seems  to  me  to  be  too  rich 
and  liberal  to  consider 
nicely  whether  it  is  return- 
ing more  than  it  has  re- 
87 


ceived.  In  filling  the 
measure  of  friendship  there 
should  be  no  fear  lest 
something  should  leak  out 
or  fall  to  the  ground,  or 
lest  more  than  the  due 
amount  should  be  put  in. 
But  the  third  rule — that 
each  should  be  valued  by 
his  friends  as  he  values 
himself — is  the  meanest 
of  all ;  for  there  are  many 
who  are  apt  to  become  de- 
pressed about  themselves 
and  to  have  little  hope  of 
bettering  their  fortunes.  It 
is  the  duty  of  a  friend, 
therefore,  not  to  be  to  such 
an  one  what  he  is  to  him- 
self, but  on  the  contrary 
to  endeavor  to  lighten  his 
disheartenment    and   give 

88 


him  fresh  hope  and  pleas- 
anter  thoughts. 

It  remains,  then,  for  us 
to  estabhsh  another  Hmit 
for  true  friendship ;  but 
first  let  me  tell  you  what 
Scipio  was  wont  to  censure 
most  of  all.  He  used  to  as- 
sert that  nothingmore  inim- 
ical to  friendship  could  be 
found  than  the  saying  that 
we  ought  to  love  as  if  at 
some  future  time  we  might 
have  occasion  to  hate;  nor 
could  he  be  brought  to  be- 
lieve that  this — as  is  com- 
monly supposed  —  was  a 
maxim  of  Bias  ^^,  who  was 
regarded  as  one  of  the  - 
seven  wise  men;  but  he 
thought  it  to  be  rather  the 
opinion  of  some  sordid 
89 


seeker  after  honors  who 
would  make  everything 
serve  his  own  ends.  For 
how  could  anv  one  be  a 
friend  to  one  to  whom,  at 
the  same  time,  he  thought 
he  might  be  an  enemy? 
Nay,  it  would  even  be 
necessary  strongly  to  de- 
sire that  our  friend  might 
offend  as  often  as  possible, 
in  order  that  he  might 
give  us,  as  it  were,  many 
handles  for  reproof;  and, 
on  the  other  hand  to  be 
distressed,  pained,  and  of- 
fended by  everything 
friends  do  that  is  right 
and  obliging.  This  maxim, 
therefore,  whoever  origi- 
nated it,  amounts  to  the 
destruction  of  friendship. 
90 


The  true  rule,  on  the  con- 
trary, he  said,  is  that  we 
should  use  such  care  in 
selecting  our  friends  that 
we  would  never  begin  to 
love  one  whom  we  could 
ever  hate.  Even  if  we  are 
not  very  fortunate  in  our 
choice  of  friends,  it  is  bet- 
ter, Scipio  thought,  to  put 
up  with  our  bad  luck, 
than  to  consider  the  possi- 
bility of  future  enmity. 

These,  in  my  opinion, 
are  to  be  taken  as  the  terms 
of  friendship ;  that  when 
the  characters  of  the  friends 
are  without  blame,  there 
may  be  between  them  a 
complete  community  of 
all  interests,  plans,  and  de- 
sires; and  that  if  occasion 
91 


comes  to  aid  friends  by 
promoting  wishes  of  theirs 
that  are  not  strictly  right, 
and  their  lives  or  reputa- 
tions are  at  stake,  it  is  per- 
missible to  deviate  from 
the  path  of  rectitude,  pro- 
vided no  great  dishonor  re- 
sult :  since  there  is  a  point 
up  to  which  such  indul- 
gence can  be  granted  to 
friendship.  But  our  good 
reputation  ought  not  to 
be  neglected,  nor  should 
we  regard  the  good-will  of 
our  fellow-citizens  as  an 
unimportant  aid  in  the 
conduct  of  our  affairs, 
though  it  is  base  to  seek 
it  by  complaisance  and 
flattering  assent;  and  vir- 
tue, which  wins  the  affec- 


92 


tion  of  our  fellows,  ought 
least  of  all  to  be  sacrificed. 
But  he  used  to  com- 
plain —  for  I  return  often 
to  Scipio,  who  spoke  on 
every  opportunity  about 
friendship  —  that  men  are 
less  painstaking  in  friend- 
ship than  in  other  mat- 
ters. Every  one  knows, 
he  would  say,  how  many 
goats  and  sheep  he  has, 
but  he  cannot  tell  the 
number  of  his  friends;  and 
men  use  care  in  choosing 
their  cattle,  but  are  care- 
less in  selecting  their 
friends,  nor  have  they  any 
criteria  by  which  they  can 
distinguish  those  who  are 
suited  to  friendship  from 
those  who  are  not.    Those 

93 


should  be  chosen  as  friends 
who  are  firm,  steadfast,  and 
unchangeable  —  a  kind  of 
man  of  which  there  is  a 
great  scarcity,  and  which 
can  hardly  be  distinguished 
without  considerable  ex- 
perience ;  this  experience, 
however,  can  be  obtained 
only  in  friendship  itself; 
and  so  friendship  outruns 
the  judgment,  and  makes 
a  fair  experiment  impossi- 
ble. It  is  therefore  the 
part  of  a  prudent  man  to 
hold  in  check  the  impulse 
of  good-will,  as  one  holds 
a  chariot  in  its  course, 
that,  just  as  we  use  only 
well-tried  horses,  we  may 
use  in  friendship  only 
friends    whose    characters 

94 


have  been  in  some  meas- 
ure tested. 

The  worthlessness  of 
some  friends  appears  in 
matters  involving  a  little 
money;  while  others,  who 
are  not  atfected  by  a  small 
pecuniary  consideration 
show  their  true  character 
when  the  amount  is  large. 
And  even  if  there  are  some 
who  regard  it  as  sordid  to 
think  more  of  money  than 
of  their  friends,  where  shall 
we  find  men  who  will  not 
prefer  to  friendship  public 
honors,  civil  office,  mili- 
tary commands,  power,  and 
resources,  and,  when  the 
claims  of  friendship  are 
placed  on  the  one  hand, 
and  these  objects  of  ambi- 

95 


tion  on  the  other,  will  not 
promptly  choose  the  lat- 
ter? For  human  nature 
is  too  weak  to  despise 
power;  and  those  who 
rise  to  place  and  power  on 
the  ruins  of  friendship  be- 
lieve that  their  fault  will 
be  overlooked,  because 
they  neglected  friendship 
for  so  weighty  a  reason. 
Accordingly,  true  friend- 
ships are  seldom  found 
among  those  who  are  in 
public  office  and  bear  the 
burdens  and  honors  of 
the  state.  For  where  will 
you  find  one  who  will  pre- 
fer the  advancement  of 
his  friend  in  public  office 
and  honors  to  his  own  ? 
Why  should  I  say  more '? 
96 


To  pass  over  this  adverse 
influence  of  ambition,  how 
difficult  and  how  burden- 
some seems  to  most  men 
participation  in  the  mis- 
fortunes of  others  I  —  a  fel- 
lowship to  which  few  con- 
descend. Though  Ennius 
says  rightly,  "  The  faith- 
ful friend  is  seen  when 
fortune  wavers,"  yet  by 
one  of  two  things  are  most 
people  convicted  of  fickle- 
ness and  weakness, — either 
by  despising  their  friends 
in  their  own  prosperity, 
or  by  deserting  them  in 
their  adversity.  Who- 
ever, in  either  particular, 
has  proved  himself  noble, 
unswerving,  and  steadfast 
in    friendship  deserves   to 

7  97 


be  regarded  as  belonging 
to  a  very  rare  and  almost 
divine  class  of  men. 

The  chief  support  of 
that  stability  and  con- 
stancy which  we  seek  in 
friendship  is  good  faith : 
for  nothing  is  stable  that 
is  unfaithful.  Moreover, 
the  choice  of  a  friend 
should  fall  upon  one  who 
is  sincere,  congenial,  and 
interested  in  the  same 
things  that  interest  us:  and 
all  these  things  pertain  to 
fidelity,  since  a  nature  that 
is  faithful  cannot  also  be 
fickle  and  wily,  nor  can 
one  who  does  not  share 
his  friend's  interests,  and  is 
not  like-minded,  be  faith- 
ful and  steadfast.  To  this 
98 


is  to  be  added  that  one 
should  never  take  pleasure 
in  finding  fault  with  one's 
friends,  nor  be  ready  to 
believe  the  charges  that 
may  be  brought  against 
them  :  this,  too,  is  essential 
to  the  constancy  of  which 
I  have  just  spoken.  From 
this  it  follows,  as  I  said  at 
the  beginning,  that  true 
friendship  can  exist  only 
between  the  good.  For  it 
is  the  part  of  a  good  man 
—  and  we  may  also  say  of 
a  wise  man,  since  they  are 
identical  —  to  hold  fast  in 
friendship  to  two  things: 
namely,  first  to  avoid  all 
pretense  and  dissimula- 
tion, since  it  is  more 
worthy  of  a  frank  man  to 

99 


hate  openly  than  to  hide 
his  feelings  by  his  looks; 
and  second,  not  only  to 
repel  accusations  that  are 
brought  against  his  friend 
by  others  but  also  not  to 
be  suspicious  himself  nor 
be  always  thinking  that 
his  friend  has  done  some- 
thing to  offend  him.  There 
should  also  be  a  certain 
gentleness  and  courtesy  of 
manners  and  of  conversa- 
tion, for  this  gives  friend- 
ship not  a  little  of  its  rel- 
ish. For  melancholy  and 
a  prevailing  austerity  of 
manner  lend  dignity,  it  is 
true ;  but  friendship  should 
be  more  cheerful,  more  un- 
constrained, more  genial, 
and  more  disposed  to  all 


that     promotes     good-fel- 
lowship and  affability. 

At  this  point  arises  a 
question  of  slight  diffi- 
culty, namely,  whethernevv 
friends  who  are  worthy 
of  our  friendship  are  ever 
to  be  preferred  to  the  old, 
as  we  prefer  young  and 
fresh  horses  to  those  that 
are  old  and  worn  out.  Un- 
worthy doubt  I  For  there 
ought  to  be  no  satiety  in 
friendship  as  there  is  in 
other  things,  but,  like  wines 
that  improve  with  age,  the 
older  it  is  the  more  deli- 
cious it  should  be ;  and 
the  proverb  is  true,  that 
many  pecks  of  salt  must 
be  eaten  together  ere  the 
work  of  friendship  is  fully 


done.  New  friendships,  if, 
like  thrifty  plants,  they 
give  promise  of  fruit,  are 
not,  of  course,  to  be  re- 
jected, but  old  friends 
must  keep  their  own 
places  in  our  hearts :  for 
great  is  the  value  of  long- 
continued  companionship. 
Nay,  one  would  rather  use 
the  horse  —  to  recur  to 
that  illustration  —  to  which 
he  is  accustomed,  provided 
he  is  still  sound,  than  one 
that  is  strange  and  ill 
broken.  Moreover,  habit 
has  this  power  with  regard 
to  inanimate  as  well  as  ani- 
mate things,  for  we  are  de- 
lighted by  those  scenes  in 
which  we  have  long  dwelt, 
however  rough  and  rugged 


they  may  be  with  moun- 
tains and  forests. 

It  is  very  important  in 
friendship  to  conduct  one- 
self as  an  equal  with  inti- 
mates who  are  one's  infe- 
riors; for  in  a  group  of 
friends  it  often  happens 
that  some  surpass  the  rest 
in  ability  or  character,  as 
did  Scipio  in  our  flock  — 
if  I  may  use  the  word. 
Yet  he  avoided  all  assump- 
tion of  superiority  to  Phi- 
lus,"  or  to  Rupilius,^^  or 
to  Mummius,  or  to  any 
of  his  less  distinguished 
friends ;  nay,  he  always  re- 
garded as  his  superior,  on 
account  of  greater  age,  his 
brother  Maximus,59  who 
was  a  very  excellent  man, 
103 


but  by  no  means  Scipio's 
equal;  and  he  wished  all 
his  friends  to  become 
richer  and  more  distin- 
guished through  his  aid. 
In  this  all  ought  to  copy 
him,  and  if  they  have  at- 
tained some  preeminence 
in  virtue,  talent,  or  for- 
tune, ought  to  impart  it  to, 
and  share  it  with,  those  to 
whom  they  are  most  closely 
related.  Thus,  if  one  is 
born  of  humble  parents,  or 
has  relatives  who  are  infe- 
rior in  ability  or  fortune, 
he  ought  to  increase  their 
wealth  and  bestow  honor 
and  dignity  upon  them ; 
just  as  in  legends  those 
who  have  lived  for  a  while 
as  menials,  in  ignorance  of 
104 


their  true  birth  and  de- 
scent, and  have  been  dis- 
covered to  be  the  sons  of 
kings  or  of  the  gods,  retain 
their  affection  for  the  shep- 
herds whom  for  many  years 
they  have  supposed  to  be 
their  fathers.  To  act  thus 
toward  fathers  who  are 
known  to  be  such  in  real- 
ity there  is,  of  course,  much 
greater  obligation  :  for  the 
best  fruits  of  talent,  of  vir- 
tue, and  of  every  kind  of 
preeminence,  are  really 
ours  only  when  we  bestow 
them  upon  our  nearest  and 
dearest. 

While  those   who  pos- 
sess this  superiority  in  the 
bond  of  friendship,  or  in 
any     other      relationship, 
105 


ought  to  put  themselves 
on  an  equaHty  with  their 
inferiors,  it  is  equally  true 
that  the  latter  ought  not 
to  be  vexed  on  finding 
themselves  excelled  by 
their  friends  in  talents,  for- 
tune, or  rank  ;  yet  most  of 
them  are  always  finding 
some  reason  for  complaints, 
or  even  for  reproaches,  es- 
pecially if  they  think  that 
they  can  point  to  some 
service  which  they  have 
rendered  dutifully,  with 
affection,  and  with  the  ex- 
penditure of  considerable 
effort.  Men  of  this  kind, 
who  are  always  casting  in 
your  teeth  the  favors  they 
have  done  you,  are,  of 
course,  most  offensive :  for 


io6 


favors  ought  to  be  remem- 
bered by  the  one  who  has 
received  them,  but  they 
should  not  be  mentioned 
by  the  one  who  conferred 
them.  Accordingly,  in 
friendship,  those  who  are 
superior  ought  to  conde- 
scend to  those  who  are  be- 
low them,  and  ought  also, 
as  far  as  possible,  to  raise 
their  inferiors  up  to  their 
own  level.  For  there  are 
some  who  turn  friendship 
into  a  nuisance  when  they 
think  that  their  friends 
hold  them  in  low  esteem; 
though  this  is  scarcely  ever 
the  fact  except  in  the  case 
of  those  who  have  but 
a  poor  opinion  of  them- 
selves.      Those   who  feel 


107 


thus  should  be  raised  in 
their  own  esteem  by 
friendly  words  and  deeds. 
The  amount,  however, 
that  ought  to  be  bestowed 
on  any  one  should  be 
measured  first  by  what 
you  are  yourself  able  to 
accomplish,  and  secondly 
by  what  the  one  whom 
you  love  and  would  aid 
has  the  capacity  to  receive ; 
for  however  great  may  be 
your  abilities  and  influ- 
ence, you  cannot  lift  all 
your  friends  to  the  high- 
est dignities.  Thus  Scipio 
was  able  to  bring  about 
the  election  of  Publius 
Rupilius^°  to  the  consul- 
ship, but  he  could  not  do 
as     much     for    Rupilius' 

io8 


brother  Lucius.^'  Buteven 
if  you  are  able  to  do  any- 
thing you  wish  for  another, 
you  ought  to  consider  his 
capacity. 

In  general,  friendships 
can  best  be  judged  when 
maturity  of  years  and  char- 
acter has  been  reached;  nor 
need  we  think  that  we  must 
hold  as  fast  friends  all  our 
lives  those  who  wxre,  in 
youth,  our  companions  in 
hunting  or  in  games,  and 
to  whom  we  were  attached 
because  they  liked  the 
same  sports.  For  on  such 
grounds  those  who  were 
our  nurses  and  slave  atten- 
dants in  childhood  would, 
on  account  of  long  inti- 
macy, demand  the  most 
109 


affection ;  nor  ought  they 
to  be  neglected,  though 
they  should  occupy  in  our 
regard  a  different  position 
from  that  which  our  friends 
hold.  Friendships  which 
do  not  thus  receive  the 
sanction  of  mature  judg- 
ment, but  are  based  merely 
on  early  association,  can- 
not last.  For  unlike  char- 
acters result  from  unHke 
pursuits,  and  such  dispar- 
ity destroys  friendships; 
nor  is  there  any  reason 
why  the  good  cannot  be 
friends  of  the  bad,  nor  the 
bad  of  the  good,  except 
that  the  diversity  between 
them,  both  in  character 
and  pursuits,  is  the  very 
greatest  that  is  possible. 


It  is  well,  also,  to  lay 
down  the  rule  that  im- 
moderate affection  should 
not,  as  often  happens,  be 
permitted  to  stand  in  the 
way  of  important  ser- 
vices that  friends  can  ren- 
der. Thus  —  to  borrow 
another  illustration  from 
the  legends  —  Neoptole- 
mus^''  could  not  have  taken 
Troy  if  he  had  been  will- 
ing to  listen  to  Lycome- 
des^^  who  had  brought  him 
up,  and  who,  with  many 
tears,  attempted  to  dis- 
suade himfromhisjourney. 
There  are  also  important 
occasions  when  for  a  time 
friends  must  part;  and 
whoever  desires  to  prevent 
this,  because  he  cannot  en- 


dure  the  grief  which  ab- 
sence brings,  is  weak  and 
unmanly  in  character,  and 
for  that  very  reason  an  im- 
perfect friend.  In  short,  one 
should  in  all  things  con- 
sider what  one  may  ask 
from  a  friend,  and  what 
one  can  allow  his  friend 
to  obtain  from  him. 

The  breaking-off  of 
friendships  is  sometimes, 
however,  a  misfortune  that 
cannot  be  avoided ;  and 
in  saying  this  I  descend 
from  the  intimacies  of  the 
wise  to  ordinary  friend- 
ships. Often  faults  are 
committed  by  friends  either 
against  their  intimates  or 
against  strangers,  and  in 
the  latter  case  the  shame 


is  reflected  upon  those  who 
are  their  friends.  In  such 
cases  it  is  well  to  get  rid 
of  friendship  by  lessening 
intercourse,  and,  as  I  have 
heard  that  Cato  said,  by 
drawing  out  the  threads 
rather  than  by  cutting  them 
asunder;  unless  the  offense 
that  has  been  committed 
is  so  unendurable  that  it  is 
neither  honorable  nor  right 
that  the  separation  should 
not  be  effected  at  once. 
But  if  some  change  of 
character  or  of  pursuits 
has  occurred,  as  is  often 
the  case,  or  if  a  difference 
of  opinion  with  regard  to 
public  affairs  has  arisen, 
—  I  am  speaking,  as  I 
have  just  said,  not  of  the 
«*  113 


friendships  of  the  wise 
but  of  ordinary  ones, — 
one  should  take  care  lest 
there  may  seem  to  be  not 
merely  an  abandonment 
of  friendship,  but  also  a 
kindling  of  enmity;  for 
nothing  is  more  repul- 
sive than  to  become  an 
enemy  to  one  with  whom 
you  have  lived  as  an 
intimate  friend.  Scipio, 
as  you  know,  gave  up,  on 
my  account,  his  friendly 
relations  with  Quintus 
Pompeius ;  ^^  he  was  also 
alienated  by  certain  po- 
litical differences  from 
our  colleague  Metellus ;  ^^ 
but  in  both  cases  he 
acted  with  dignity,  and 
without   an   offensive   use 


114 


of  his   personal  authority 
or  bitter  hostiHty. 

Accordingly,  we  should 
first  of  all  endeavor  to  pre- 
vent disaffection  from 
coming  between  friends  ; 
but  when  anything  of  the 
kind  has  happened,  let 
our  friendships  seem  to  die 
a  natural  death  rather  than 
to  be  destroyed  with  vio- 
lence. See  to  it,  also,  that 
friendships  do  not  become 
transformed  into  bitter  en- 
mities, from  which  spring 
wranglings,  abuse,  and  in- 
sults; yet  if  these  can  in 
any  way  be  borne  they 
should  be  endured,  and  in 
this  way  the  friendship  that 
is  gone  should  be  honored, 
that    he   who    inflicts    the 


"5 


injury  may  be  seen  to  be 
in  the  wrong,  not  he  who 
suffers  it.  Against  all  these 
errors  and  misfortunes 
there  is  one  preventive  and 
guaranty  —  the  avoidance 
of  haste  in  forming  attach- 
ments and  the  choice  of 
worthy  objects  of  affection. 
Those,  moreover,  are 
worthy  of  friendship  in 
whose  very  nature  there  is 
a  reason  why  they  should 
be  loved.  But  how  few 
such  men  there  are  *?  In- 
deed all  things  that  are 
excellent  are  rare,  and 
nothing  is  harder  than  to 
find  anything  that  is,  in 
every  respect,  perfect  of 
its  kind.  The  majority  of 
men,  moreover,  recognize 

ii6 


nothing  in  human  affairs 
as  good  unless  it  yields 
some  return,  and  they  love 
those  friends  most  —  as 
they  do  their  cattle  — from 
whoQi  they  hope  to  obtain 
the  most  profit.  Thus  they 
lack  that  loveliest  and 
most  natural  form  of  friend- 
ship which  is  sought  for 
its  own  sake  only;  nor  do 
they  know  from  experience 
how  beautiful  and  how 
lofty  such  friendship  is. 
One  loves  oneself  not  that 
one  may  exact  from  one- 
self pay  for  one's  love,  but 
because  each  of  us  is  by 
nature  dear  to  himself 
But  unless  this  same  feel- 
ing is  transferred  to  friend- 
ship, a  true  friend  can 
117 


never  be  found ;  for  such 
a  friend  is,  as  it  were,  a 
second  self  Now  if  we 
find  that  all  animals  — 
birds,  fishes,  and  beasts, 
tame  and  wild  —  first  love 
themselves  (for  that  is  an 
instinct  natural  to  every 
living  thing),  and  then  de- 
sire and  seek  others  of 
their  kind  to  which  they 
may  attach  themselves, 
and  do  this  with  affection 
and  something  that  looks 
very  much  like  human 
love,  how  much  more  nat- 
ural is  this  in  man,  who 
both  loves  himself  and  also 
demands  another  whose 
heart  shall  be  so  blended 
with  his  that  the  two  shall 
almost  become  one  soul  I 

ii8 


Most,  however,  per- 
versely—  not  to  say  shame- 
lessly—  desire  to  have 
friends  whose  character  is 
what  their  own  cannot  be  ; 
and  they  demand  from 
them  what  they  cannot 
themselves  give  in  return. 
The  right  course,  however, 
is  for  one  to  be  first  of  all  a 
good  man  and  then  to  seek 
out  another  like  himself 
Insuchmenthatstabilityof 
friendship  which  I  touched 
upon  a  little  while  ago  can 
be  perfected;  since  when 
they  are  united  in  mutual 
good-will  they  will  curb 
those  lower  desires  by 
which  others  are  enslaved. 
They  will  also  delight  in 
uprightness  and  justice, 
119 


and  each  will  bear  any- 
thing for  the  other's  sake, 
nor  will  either  ask  from 
the  other  anything  that  is 
not  honorable  and  right : 
fthey  will  not  only  cherish 
and  love,  they  will  even 
reverence  one  another/^ 
For  to  take  away  mutuaf 
respect  is  to  remove  the 
choicest  ornament  of 
friendship.  Accordingly, 
they  commit  a  most  harm- 
ful error  w^ho  suppose  that 
friendship  opens  the  door 
to  lust  and  evil  practices 
of  all  kinds,  ror  nature 
has  given  us  friendship, 
not  as  a  companion  to  the 
vices,  but  as  an  assistant 
to  the  virtues,  in  order  that 
with  its  help    virtue  may 


reach  heights  to  which  un- 
aided it  could  not  attain. 
If  any  now  have,  or  have 
possessed,  or  shall  attain 
such  fellowship,  it  should 
be  regarded  as  the  very 
best  and  happiest  compan- 
ionship that  is  possible, 
since  it  leads  to  the  high- 
est good  that  nature  has  to 
give.  This,  I  say,  is  the 
fellowship  in  which  are  all 
things  that  men  deem  wor- 
thy of  pursuit, — honorable 
character,  fame,  peace  of 
mind,  and  joy, —  so  that 
with  these  things  life  is 
happy,  but  without  them 
it  can  have  no  happiness 
at  all. 

But  if  we  would  attain 
this  highest   and   best   of 


good  things,  we  must  be  at 
pains  to  cultivate  virtue, 
for  without  it  we  can  se- 
cure neither  friendship  nor 
anything  else  that  is  worth 
seeking.  If  it  is  neglected, 
those  who  think  that  they 
possess  true  friends  find, 
when  some  serious  emer- 
gency forces  them  to  put 
their  friends  to  the  test,  that 
they  have  made  a  grievous 
mistake.  Accordingly  — 
for  this  should  often  be  re- 
peated —  it  is  best  to  love 
after  you  have  reached  a 
full  and  deliberate  judg- 
ment, and  not  to  form 
your  judgment  after  you 
have  loved.  But  we  are 
blamable  for  negligence 
in  many  things,  and  espe- 


cially  in  the  choosing  and 
retaining  ot  friends  :  for  we 
adopt  plans  that  begin  at 
the  wrong  end,  and  do 
over  again  what  has  al- 
ready been  done,  which 
is  forbidden  by  the  old 
proverb.  After  we  have 
formed  a  close  mutual  at- 
tachment through  daily  in- 
tercourse or  interchange 
of  good  offices,  suddenly, 
in  mid  career,  some  oc- 
casion of  offense  arises 
and  our  friendship  is 
broken  off. 

This  great  lack  of  care, 
moreover,  is  especially 
blameworthy  in  a  matter 
of  such  very  great  impor- 
tance ;  for  friendship  is  the 
only  thing  in  human  af- 
123 


fairs  about  whose  useful- 
ness men  agree  unanim- 
ously. Even  virtue  is 
depreciated  by  many,  who 
say  that  it  is  a  sort  of  os- 
tentatious display  and  pre- 
tense. Many  scorn  riches, 
since  they  are  content  with 
a  little,  and  are  satisfied 
with  frugal  fare  and  a  sim- 
ple style  of  living;  public 
honors,  also,  which  arouse 
the  eager  desire  of  some, 
are  scorned  by  others  who 
think  that  nothing  can  be 
more  idle  or  more  trifling; 
and  the  same  is  true  of  all 
the  other  things  which  to 
some  seem  admirable,  for 
there  are  always  very  many 
others  who  regard  them  as 
of  not  the  slightest  account. 
124 


About  friendship,  how- 
ever, all,  to  the  last  man, 
agree  —  whether  they  de- 
vote themselves  to  politics 
or  take  pleasure  in  philo- 
sophical studies,  or  carry 
on  their  business  apart  from 
public  affairs,  or,  finally, 
are  wholly  absorbed  in  the 
pursuit  ot  pleasure  —  that 
without  friendship  there 
can  be  no  life  worth  liv- 
ing, provided  they  desire 
to  live  to  any  extent  as 
becomes  men  who  are  not 
slaves. 

For  friendship  entwines 
itself  somehow  about  the 
lives  of  all;  nor  is  any 
mode  of  life  unacquainted 
with  it.  Nay,  even  when 
one  is  so  bitter  and  mis- 

125 


anthropical  that  he  hates 
and  shuns  society, —  like 
Tiinon  of  Athens  in  the 
legend,  if  there  ever  was 
such  a  person, —  he  still 
must  have  some  one  into 
whose  ears  he  can  pour 
his  gall.  As  the  best  il- 
lustration of  this  universal 
need,  suppose  —  if  such  a 
thing  could  happen  —  that 
some  god  should  take  us 
away  from  the  haunts  of 
men  and  place  us  some- 
where in  solitude,  supply- 
ing us  with  all  and  more 
than  all  that  human  nature 
craves,  but  denying  us  ab- 
solutely the  privilege  of 
looking  upon  the  face  of  a 
fellow-being.  Who  is  of 
metal  tough  enough  to  en- 
126 


dure  such  a  life  ?  Would 
not  this  solitude  destroy, 
for  anyone,  the  enjoyment 
of  every  kind  of  pleasure  ? 
That  saying,  therefore,  is 
true  which,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  was  handed 
down  through  our  elders, 
from  those  older  than  they, 
as  originating  with  Archy- 
tas^^  of  Tarentum  —  that 
even  if  one  should  ascend 
into  the  heavens,  and  see 
clearly  into  the  nature  of 
the  universe  and  behold 
the  splendor  of  the  stars, 
all  these  wonderful  and 
entrancing  things  would 
give  him  no  delight  unless 
he  had  some  friend  to 
whom  he  could  describe 
them,  i   Thus    human   na- 


127 


ture  loves  not  to  be  soli- 
tary, but  always  leans,  as 
it  were,  on  some  support ; 
and  the  sweetest  of  all  such 
supports  is  a  very  loving 
friend.  /  But  while  nature 
in  so  "'many  ways  makes 
known  what  she  wishes, 
requires,  and  longs  for, 
we,  somehow  or  other, 
grow  deaf  and  do  not  hear 
her  admonitions. 

There  are  numeroiis  and 
diverse  modes  of  inter- 
course between  friends,  and 
many  causes  of  suspicion 
aiid  offense  arise  which  it 
is  the  part  of  a  wise  man 
sometimes  to  avoid,  some- 
times to  lessen,  and  some- 
times to  endure.  One 
cause  of  offense,  however, 
128 


must  always  be  endured, 
that  friendship  may  retain 
its  utility  and  good  faith 
be  kept  between  friends; 
for  friends  should  often 
be  admonished  and  even 
sharply  reproved,  and  such 
reproof  when  kindly  given 
should  be  received  in  a 
friendly  spirit.  Yet  some- 
how it  is  true,  as  my  friend 
Terence  ^^  says  in  his  "  An- 
dria,"  that  "  complaisance 
begets  friends,  truth  ha- 
tred." Truth  is,  indeed, 
troublesome  if  in  fact  ha- 
tred, which  is  the  bane  of 
friendship,  is  begotten  by 
it;  but  complaisance  is 
much  more  injurious  be- 
cause by  weak  indulgence 
of  wrong-doing  it  permits 

9  129 


a  friend  to  be  borne  head- 
long into  evil;  the  greatest 
guilt,  however,  is  his  who 
spurns  the  truth  and  lets 
himself  be  carried  away  by 
the  complacency  of  his 
friends  into  self-deception. 
Accordingly,  as  regards 
this  whole  matter,  we 
should  be  extremely  care- 
ful to  keep  our  advice  free 
from  harshness,  and  our 
reproof  from  bitterness ; 
in  complacency  (so  far  as 
it  is  right)  on  the  other 
hand —  for  I  use  with  plea- 
sure the  words  of  Terence 
—  let  courtesy  be  present, 
but  let  flattery,  that  hand- 
maid of  the  vices,  be  kept 
far  away,  since  it  is  un- 
worthy not  only  of  a  friend 
130 


but  of  any  man  who  is  not  a 
slave.  For  it  is  one  thing 
to  live  with  a  tyrant,  and 
another  to  live  with  a 
friend. 

There  is  no  salvation  for 
the  man  whose  ears  are  so 
tightly  closed  to  the  truth 
that  he  will  not  hear  it 
from  a  friend.  This  say- 
ing of  Cato's  —  like  many 
others  —  is  well-known  : 
"  Many  owe  more  to  their 
bitter  enemies  than  to  the 
friends  that  seem  sweet; 
for  the  former  often  tell 
them  the  truth,  the  latter 
never."  And  it  is  absurd 
for  those  who  receive  ad- 
monition not  to  be  troubled 
by  that  which  ought  to 
distress  them,  but,  on  the 
131 


contrary,  to  be  irritated  by 
that  which  ought  to  give 
them  no  annoyance.  That 
they  have  done  wrong 
does  not  trouble  them;  it 
is  the  reproof  that  they 
find  hard  to  bear;  they 
ought,  on  the  contrary,  to 
grieve  over  their  sins  and 
rejoice  in  correction. 

Since,  then,  it  is  essen- 
tial to  true  friendship  both 
to  give  and  to  receive  ad- 
monition, and  to  do  the 
one  freely  and  kindly  and 
the  other  patiently  and 
willingly,  it  should  be  ad- 
mitted that  there  is  no 
greater  plague  of  friend- 
ship than  sycophancy, 
complacency,  and  flattery; 
for  this  vice  of  unprinci- 
132 


pled  and  treacherous  men, 
who  in  all  they  say  seek 
to  gratify  the  wishes  of 
their  friends,  and  have  no 
regard  for  the  truth,  ought 
to  be  branded  under  as 
many  names  as  possible. 
While  insincerity  is  in  all 
cases  reprehensible,  —  be- 
cause it  defiles  the  truth 
and  takes  away  the  power 
of  judging  it,  —  it  is  es- 
pecially antagonistic  to 
friendship,  since  it  de- 
stroys truthfulness,  without 
which  the  name  of  friend- 
ship has  no  significance. 
For  the  power  of  friend- 
ship lies  in  this,  that  several 
souls  are,  as  it  were,  united 
in  one ;  but  how  can  this 
be  effected  unless  the  mind 
133 


of  each  and  every  one  is 
always  one  and  the  same, 
and  not  variable,  change- 
able, and  manifold?  And 
what  can  be  so  pliant,  so 
variable,  as  the  mind  of 
one  who  is  turned  about 
like  a  weathercock,  not 
only  by  the  views  and 
wishes  of  another,  but  even 
by  his  look  and  nod? 

"  If  any  one  says  no,  I 
say  no ;  if  yes,  I  say  yes ; 
in  short,  my  rule  is  to  as- 
sent to  everything,"  as 
Terence  says,  but  in  the 
character  of  Gnatho.^^  To 
have  anything  to  do  with 
friends  of  this  sort  is  utter 
folly.  Yet  there  are  many 
like  Gnatho  who  are  his 
superiors   in   lineage,   for- 

134 


tune,  and  reputation,  and 
whose  flattery  Is  more  in- 
jurious, since  their  influ- 
ence gives  weight  to  their 
empty  words. 

Moreover,  a  smooth- 
tongued friend  may  be 
known  and  distinguished 
from  a  true  one,  by  the 
use  of  proper  care,  as 
readily  as  other  disguised 
and  counterfeited  things 
can  be  discriminated  from 
what  is  real  and  genuine. 
Even  the  popular  assembly, 
though  it  consists  of  peo- 
ple without  experience  in 
public  affairs,  is  wont  to 
note  the  difference  between 
a  demagogue — that  is,  one 
who  is  a  mere  flatterer  and 
trifler  —  and  a  steadfast, 
135 


weighty,  and  dignified 
citizen.  With  what  al- 
luring words  Caius  Papi- 
rius^9  lately  filled  the  ears 
of  the  assembly  when  he 
proposed  the  law  for  the 
reelection  of  the  tribunes 
of  the  people!  I  opposed 
it;  but  I  would  rather 
speak  of  Scipio  than  of 
myself.  So  imposing,  ye 
immortal  gods,  was  the 
dignity  of  his  manner,  so 
great  was  the  majesty  of 
his  address,  that  one  might 
easily  have  thought  him 
to  be  the  leader  of  the 
Roman  people  rather  than 
a  private  citizen !  But  you 
were  present  and  his  speech 
is  in  everybody's  hands. 
The  result  was  that  the 
136 


demagogical  law  was  re- 
jected by  the  votes  of  the 
people.  But,  to  return  to 
myself,  you  remember 
how  popular,  in  the  con- 
sulship of  Quintus  Maxi- 
mus,  the  brother  of  Scipio, 
and  Lucius  Mancinus, 
seemed  to  be  the  law  of 
Caius  Licinius  Crassus^^ 
about  the  priests,  by  which 
the  power  of  filling  vacan- 
cies in  the  colleges  of 
priests  was  to  be  taken 
away  from  those  bodies 
and  made  a  privilege  of 
the  people.  Crassus  then 
first  introduced  the  custom 
of  turning  toward  the 
forum  7^  to  address  the 
people.  Yet  when  I  arose 
in  its  defense,  the  religion 
137 


of  the  immortal  gods  easily 
overcame  his  plausible 
speech.  This  happened 
when  I  was  praetor,  five 
years  before  I  became  con- 
sul; hence  the  cause  was 
won  more  by  its  own 
merits  than  through  any 
great  influence  of  mine. 

But  if  on  the  stage, — 
that  is,  in  the  popular  as- 
sembly, which  is  much  the 
same  thing, —  where  there 
is  the  most  favorable  op- 
portunity for  the  play  of 
fancy  and  illusion,  the 
truth  produces  such  a 
mighty  effect  when  it  is 
presented  clearly  and 
sharply,  what  ought  to  be 
its  effect  in  friendship 
which  depends  entirely 
138 


upon  truthfulness  ?  For 
in  friendship  you  can  have 
nothing  that  can  be  trusted, 
nothing  sure,  unless,  as 
they  say,  you  can  look 
into  the  open  heart  of 
yourfriend  and  reveal  your 
own ;  you  cannot  even  be 
certain  of  loving  or  being 
loved,  since  you  cannot 
know  how  much  of  reality 
there  may  be  in  either. 
And  yet  that  flattery  which 
I  last  mentioned,  harmful 
as  it  is,  can  injure  only  the 
one  who  accepts  it  and  is 
pleased  by  it.  And  so  it 
happens  that  he  who  flat- 
ters himself  and  is  exces- 
sively pleased  with  him- 
self is  the  one  who  most 
readily  turns  a  willing  ear 
139 


to  flatterers.  Virtue,  to  be 
sure,  loves  itself,  for  it  best 
knows  itself  and  under- 
stands how  lovable  it  is : 
but  I  am  not  speaking 
now  of  virtue,  but  of  an 
exaggerated  belief  in  one's 
own  virtue :  and  the  num- 
ber of  those  endowed  with 
real  virtue  is  not  so  great 
as  of  those  who  desire  to 
appear  to  possess  it.  Such 
men  are  delighted  by  flat- 
tery; and  when  lying 
words,  chosen  to  suit  their 
wishes,  are  addressed  to 
them,  they  think  that  such 
deceitful  speeches  bear 
witness  to  their  exalted 
merits. 

Friendship,  therefore,  in 
which  one  party  does  not 
140 


want  to  hear  the  truth  and 
the  other  is  ready  to  lie  is 
not  friendship  at  all.  Nor 
would  the  flatteries  placed 
in  the  mouths  of  parasites 
on  the  comic  stage  amuse 
us  if  there  were  not  also 
in  the  plays  braggadocios  ^^ 
to  be  fooled  by  them. 

"  Heartily,  of  course,  did 
Thais  thank  me*?"73  It 
would  have  been  enough 
to  reply  :  "  Yes,  heartily." 
But  the  parasite  says:  "Tre- 
mendously I  "  The  flat- 
terer always  exaggerates 
what  the  one  whose  ear  he 
is  tickling  wishes  to  have 
seem  great.  Yet,  while 
such  glib  deceitfulness  in- 
fluences only  those  who 
themselves  attract  and  in- 
141 


vite  it,  even  those  who 
have  more  sober  and  stead- 
fast minds  ought  to  be  ad- 
vised to  beware  less  they 
be  caught  by  flattery 
of  a  more  cunning  kind. 
No  one,  unless  he  is  very 
stupid,  fails  to  detect  an 
open  flatterer;  but  it  is 
well  to  take  care  that  the 
clever  and  sly  flatterer  does 
not  worm  his  way  into  our 
confidence.  For  it  is  not 
easy  to  recognize  him  ;  es- 
pecially since  he  often  flat- 
ters by  offering  opposition 
and  pleases  by  feigning  to 
dispute,  and  then  at  the 
end  throws  up  his  hands 
and  admits  defeat  in  order 
that  the  one  he  is  deluding 
may  think  himself  the 
142 


clearer-headed  man.  But 
what  is  more  shameful  than 
to  be  played  with  in  this 
fashion  '?  Look  out  that  it 
does  not  happen  to  you  as 
in  the  play:^^  "To-day 
you've  hoaxed  and  cheated 
me  beyondthe  lot  of  stupid 
old  men  in  the  comedies." 
For  in  comic  plays  the 
most  ridiculous  characters 
are  those  of  unwary  and 
credulous  old  men. 

But  in  some  way  my 
discourse  has  wandered 
from  the  friendships  of  per- 
fect men,  that  is,  of  the 
wise — I  speak,  of  course, 
of  such  wisdom  as  can  fall 
to  the  lot  of  man  —  to 
those  of  a  less  weighty 
kind.  Let  us  revert,  then, 
143 


briefly  to  the  former  topic, 
and  then  bring  this  also 
to  a  conclusion. 

It  is  virtue,  I  say,  Caius 
Fannius  and  Ouintus  Mu- 
cius  —  it  is  virtue  that 
both  induces  and  pre- 
serves friendships;  for  in 
it  are  agreement  in  all 
things,  stability,  and  stead- 
fastness. When  it  has 
exhibited  itself,  and  has 
shed  abroad  its  beams,  and 
has  perceived  and  recog- 
nized the  same  light  in 
another,  it  approaches  that 
light  and  receives  in  turn 
what  the  other  has  to  im- 
part; and  from  this  inter- 
change love  or  friendship 

—  call  it  which  you  will 

—  is  enkindled.    For  both 

144 


these  words  are,  in  Latin, 
derived  from  "  loving."" 
Moreover^  to  love  is  noth- 
ing but  to  have  affection 
for  the  one  you  love,  with- 
out any  thought  of  a  need 
on  your  part  which  he  can 
relieve,  or  of  any  service 
that  he  can  render;  though 
such  service,  however  little 
you  may  have  sought  it, 
will  blossom  out  the  fairest 
flower  of  friendship. 

With  such  affection  I, 
in  my  youth,  loved  those 
old  men,  Lucius  Paulus, 
Marcus  Cato,  Caius  Gal- 
lus,  Publius  Nasica,  and 
Tiberius  Gracchus,7^  my 
Scipio's  father-in-law;  yet 
this  affection  is  more  not- 
able when  it  exists  be- 
145 


tween  those  of  the  same 
age,  as  it  did  between  my- 
self and  Scipio,  Lucius 
Furius,  Publius  Rupilius 
and  Spurius  Mummius. 
As  an  old  man,  on  the 
other  hand,  I  have,  in  my 
turn,  found  repose  and 
pleasure  in  the  attachment 
of  young  men,  as  in  yours 
and  in  that  of  Quintus  Tu- 
bero;  and  I  take  delight 
also  in  the  intimacy  of 
Publius  Rutilius  and  Au- 
lus  Virginius,  who  are  al- 
most boys. 

Inasmuch  as  it  is  the 
established  order  of  nature 
and  of  human  life  that  a 
generation  different  from 
ours  must  take  our  places, 
it  is  greatly  to  be  desired 
146 


that,  if  possible,  we  should 
reach  the  goal,  as  it  were, 
with  those  of  our  own  age 
with  whom  we  started  in 
the  race;  but  since  human 
life  is  so  frail  and  so  uncer- 
tain it  is  well  to  be  always 
on  the  watch  for  younger 
men  whom  we  may  love 
and  who  may  love  us ;  for 
if  affection  and  kindness 
are  taken  away  from  us 
all  the  happiness  of  life 
is  lost. 

For  me,  indeed,  Scipio 
yet  lives  and  always  will 
live,  torn  from  me  though 
he  was  suddenly  by  death; 
for  I  loved  the  virtue  of 
that  noble  man,  and  over 
this  death  has  had  no 
power. 

147 


Nor  is  It  visible  to  me 
alone,  since  I  have  always 
had  it  close  before  me ; 
it  will  always  stand  out 
radiant  and  illustrious  in 
the  sight  of  future  ages. 
Hereafter  no  one  will  ever 
undertake  or  venture  to 
hope  for  what  is  great  and 
glorious  without  calling  to 
mind  his  character  and 
adopting  it  as  a  model. 
Nay,  there  is  not  one  of 
all  the  gifts  that  nature 
or  good  fortune  has  be- 
stowed upon  me  that  I 
can  compare  with  the 
friendship  of  Scipio.  It 
gave  me  sympathy  in  pub- 
lic affairs,  wise  counsel  in 
my  private  concerns,  and 
a  repose  that  was  full  of 
148 


all  delight.  Never  in  the 
least  did  I  offend  him,  as 
far  as  I  know ;  not  a  word 
did  he  speak  that  I  was 
unwilling  to  hear;  we  had 
one  home,  one  table,  and 
that  a  frugal  one ;  and  we 
were  together  not  only  in 
our  military  campaigns, 
but  even  in  our  journeys 
and  our  vacations  in  the 
country. 

Need  I  speak  of  those 
studious  pursuits  —  that 
eager  quest  of  knowledge 
and  learning  —  in  which, 
secluded  from  public  ob- 
servation, we  spent  all  our 
leisure  hours'? 

If  the  memory  of  these 
things,  or  the  power  to 
recall  them,  had  perished 
149 


with  him,  I  could  not 
now  endure  my  intense 
longing  for  that  dear  and 
very  loving  friend.  But 
they  have  not  perished ; 
they  rather  grow  stronger 
and  are  increased  in  my 
memory  and  reflections ; 
and  even  if  I  were  wholly 
deprived  of  them,  I  should 
still  obtain  great  comfort 
from  the  fact  that  I  am 
old,  for  I  know  that  I  shall 
have  to  bear  my  grief  only 
for  a  little  while. 

All  sorrows,  even  the 
most  intense,  should  be 
endurable  when  they  are 
brief 

This  is  what  I  had  to 
say  to  you  about  friend- 
ship ;  and  I  beg  you  to 
150 


give  to  virtue  so  high  a 
place  in  your  esteem  that 
it  shall  be  the  only  thing 
that  you  prefer  to  friend- 
ship, which  without  virtue 
cannot  exist. 


151 


NOTES 

The  ''De  Amicitia,"  or 
'*Laelius,"  was  written  in  44 
B.  c,  a  little  later  than  the  ''  De 
Senectute/'  or  *' Cato  Major," 
and  at  the  request  of  Titus  Pom- 
ponius  Atticus  (see  note  6),  to 
whom  both  these  treatises  were 
addressed.  It  appeared  at  the 
close  of  a  period  of  political  in- 
action, but  of  great  literary  ac- 
tivity, in  the  life  of  Cicero,  fol- 
lowing the  defeat  of  Pompey  (at 
Pharsalus,  August  9,  48  b.  c), 
whose  cause  he  had  espoused, 
and  just  preceding  his  quarrel 
with  Antony  and  his  assassination 
(December  7,  43  b.  c),  by  or- 
der of  the  second  Triumvirate. 
Composed  thus  in  a  time  of  fierce 
civil  strife,  when  the  choice  of 
party    was    often   determined  by 

153 


personal  relations  toward  the 
various  leaders,  it  was  designed, 
in  part,  to  show  both  the  im- 
portance of  friendship  to  the  wel- 
fare of  the  state,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  subordinating  it  to  virtue 
and  patriotism  ;  for  the  same 
reason  the  scene  of  the  dialogue 
was  fittingly  placed  in  the  age  of 
the  Gracchi  which  was  marked  by 
a  like  political  unrest.  Beyond 
this  the  discussion  of  friendship 
follows  the  lead  of  ancient  ethics 
(of  which  this  subject  formed  an 
essential  part),  considering  and 
refuting,  in  particular,  the  opin- 
ions of  the  Stoics  and  Epicureans. 
The  more  important  names  and 
references  are  explained  in  the 
following  notes  : 

I.  Quintus  Mucins  Scaevola,  a 
distinguished  jurist  and  statesman. 
He  became  tribune  of  the  people 
in  128  B.  c,  plebeian  edile  in 
125,  governor  of  the  province 
of  Asia  in  121,  and  consul,  with 

154 


L.  Caecilius  Metellus,  in  117. 
It  was  the  function  of  the  college 
of  Augurs,  of  which  he  was  a 
member,  to  interpret  the  aus- 
pices (signs  from  the  heavens, 
the  direction  of  the  flight  of  birds, 
etc.),  with  reference  to  pro- 
posed action  on  the  part  of  the 
State,  and  to  determine  their 
validity.  The  office,  which  was 
for  life,  was  one  of  great  dignity 
and  importance  (for  it  involved, 
practically,  a  veto  upon  all  public 
acts),  and  was  sought  by  the  most 
eminent  men. 

2.  Caius  Laelius  Sapiens  {the 
Wisely  eminent  as  a  statesman 
and  orator,  and  especially  as  a 
scholar  and  patron  of  learning, 
was  born  about  186  b.  c,  be- 
came tribune  of  the  people  in 
151,  pretor  in  145,  and  consul 
in  140.  A  successful  campaign 
against  the  Lusitanian  chief 
Viriathus  gained  him  also  con- 
siderable reputation  as  a  soldier. 

155 


In  politics,  though  he  at  first 
favored  various  measures  designed 
to  improve  the  condition  of  the 
lower  classes,  he  became  an  ar- 
dent opponent  of  the  popular 
movement  represented  by  the 
Gracchi  (see  notes  44,  51).  He 
was  an  eager  student  of  Greek 
philosophy  under  the  guidance 
of  the  Stoic  Panaetius,  and  in  his 
time  was  the  exponent  of  Greek 
culture  at  Rome.  His  friendship 
for  the  younger  Africanus  was 
paralleled  by  that  of  his  father 
(also  Caius  Laelius)  for  Scipio 
Africanus  the  Elder. 

3.  The  Quintus  Mucius  above 
mentioned. 

4.  ^intus  Mucius  Scaevola, 
a  noted  jurist,  the  author  of  the 
first  systematic  treatise  on  the 
civil  law.  He  was  tribune  of 
the  people  in  106  b.  c,  curule 
edile  in  104,  and  consul,  with 
L.  Licinius  Crassus,  in  95.  He 
was  proscribed  by  the  party  of 

156 


Marius  and  was  slain  in  82  b.  c. 
As  Pontifex  Maximus  he  was 
the  head  of  the  college  of  pon- 
tiffs and  the  supreme  religious 
authority  in  the  state. 

5.  A  hall  or  colonnade  pro- 
vided with  semicircular  recesses, 
and  used  for  purposes  of  conver- 
sation ;  or  a  large  semicircular 
alcove. 

6.  Titus  Pomponius  Atticus, 
a  scholar  and  bookseller,  author 
of  an  epitome  of  Roman  history, 
but  best  known  as  the  intimate 
friend  of  Cicero.  He  was  born 
in  109  B.  c,  and  died  32  b.  c. 

7.  Publius  Sulpicius  Rufus,  an 
eminent  orator  and  politician, 
born  in  124  b.  c.  Originally 
an  aristocrat  in  politics,  after 
his  election  to  the  tribunate  in 
88  B.  c.  he  proposed  reforms 
which  were  fiercely  opposed  by 
the  senate,  and  finally  went  over 
to  Marius  and  the  popular  party. 
In    the   same   year  he  was   pro- 

157 


scribed  by  order  of  Sulla  and  put 
to  death. 

8.  ^intus  Pompeius  Rufus, 
consul  with  L.  Sulla  in  88  b.  c. 
He  adhered  to  the  aristocratic 
party  and  Sulla  —  a  difference 
in  politics  which  caused  the  loss 
of  Sulpicius's  friendship. 

9.  Caius  Fannius  Strabo,  an 
orator  and  scholar,  author  of  a 
history  of  his  own  time.  He 
served  under  Scipio  in  the  last 
war  against  Carthage,  and  with 
Tiberius  Gracchus  was  the  first 
to  scale  its  walls. 

10.  Publius  Cornelius  Scipio 
Aemilianus  Africanus  Minor^  a 
famous  general  and  statesman, 
born  about  185  b.  c.  He  was 
the  son  of  L.  Aemilianus  Paulus, 
the  conqueror  of  Macedonia,  and 
was  adopted  by  his  cousin,  P. 
Scipio,  a  son  of  Scipio  Africanus 
Major,  the  conqueror  of  Hanni- 
bal. He  served  with  distinction 
in   Greece,    Spain,    and    Africa, 

158 


and  captured  Carthage  in  146 
and  Numantia  in  133.  He  be- 
came consul  in  147,  and  again  in 
134  ;  in  142  he  was  chosen  cen- 
sor, an  office  which  he  adminis- 
tered with  the  rigid  and  con- 
servative spirit  of  Cato.  In 
politics  he  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  aristocratic  party,  though  in 
the  earlier  part  of  his  career  he 
showed  himself  not  averse  to 
certain  popular  reforms.  The 
excesses  of  the  popular  party 
aroused  in  him  the  most  earnest 
and  effective  antagonism.  On 
the  day  before  his  death,  in  129 
B.  c,  he  delivered  an  eloquent 
oration  in  the  Senate  in  support 
of  a  measure  which  was  favorable 
to  the  allied  communities  of 
Latins  and  Italians,  but  which 
amounted  to  the  abrogation  of 
the  agrarian  law  of  Tib.  Grac- 
chus (see  note  44).  On  the 
following  morning  he  was  found 
in    his    room    dead.        He    had 

IS9 


doubtless  been  murdered.  He 
was  also  a  scholar  and  a  noted 
orator. 

1 1 .  Marcus  Porcius  Cato  (born 
234  B.  c. :  died  149  b.  c), 
called  Major  (the  Elder)  to  dis- 
tinguish him  from  Cato  Uticen- 
sis  (see  note  14).  He  became 
censor  in  1 84,  and  is  famous  for 
his  efforts,  in  that  office,  to  re- 
store the  morals  and  customs  of 
the  earlier  days  of  the  Republic. 
Cicero's  treatise  '*De  Senec- 
tute,"  or  *'Cato  Major"  was 
written  45-44  b.  c. 

1 2.  The  Africanus  above  men- 
tioned (note  10). 

13.  A  jurist  (lived  about  200 
B.  c),  author  of  a  commentary 
on  the  Twelve  Tables.  He  was 
the  first  to  receive  the  cognomen 
Sapiens  (the  wise),  a  title  after- 
ward often  given  to  jurists. 

14.  Marcus  Porcius  Cato  Uti- 
censis  (**of  Utica,"  the  place  of 
his  death),  a  soldier,  statesman, 

160 


and  Stoic  philosopher,  born  in 
95  B.  c.  He  supported  Pompey 
against  Caesar,  and  committed 
suicide  in  46  b.  c.  after  the  vic- 
tory of  Caesar  at  Thapsus  over 
the  troops  led  by  Scipio  Metel- 
lus,  Juba,  and  himselfo 

15.  Socrates. 

16.  M.  Porcius  Cato  Licini- 
anus.  He  attained  distinction  as 
a  jurist  and  a  soldier,  and  died 
about  152  B.  c. 

17.  L.  Aemilius  Paulus  Mace- 
donicuSy  conqueror  of  Perseus  at 
Pydna  and  subjugator  of  Mace- 
donia (168  B.  c).  He  w^as  the 
father  of  Scipio.  He  was  born 
about  229  B.  c,  became  consul 
in  168,  and  censor  in  164,  and 
died  in  160. 

18.  Caius  Sulpicius  Gallus,  an 
orator  and  scholar,  noted  particu- 
larly for  his  knowledge  of  Greek 
and  astronomy.  He  was  consul 
in  166  B.  c. 

19.  The    Stoics,    who  taught 

n  161 


that  the  wise  man  should  not  per- 
mit his  mind  to  be  disturbed  by 
joy  or  grief. 

20.  The  Epicureans,  whose 
materialistic  doctrines,  together 
with  those  of  the  other  Greek 
schools  of  philosophy,  began  to 
be  taught  at  Rome  about  the  time 
of  Laelius. 

21.  The  Greek  colonies  in 
southern  Italy,  the  seats  of  fa- 
mous schools  of  philosophy, 
among  them  that  of  Pythagoras 
which  taught  the  continued  ex- 
istence of  the  soul  after  death. 

2  2.  Lucius  Furius  Philus,  a 
general  in  the  Numantine  war, 
and  consul  b.  c.   136. 

23.  Majiius  Manilius,  a  jurist 
and  commander  at  the  beginning 
of  the  third  Punic  war.  He  was 
consul  in  149  b.  c. 

24.  Somnium  Scipionis  (**  Scip- 
io's  Dream  "),  a  famous  passage 
in  the  sixth  book  of  Cicero's 
**De  Republica." 

162 


25-   The  Stoics. 

26.  Caius  Fabricius  LuscinuSy 
who  distinguished  himself  as  a 
general  in  the  war  against  Pyr- 
rhus,  280-275  B.  c. 

27.  Manius  Curius  DentatuSy 
noted  as  the  conqueror  of  Pyr- 
rhus  in  275  b.  c,  and  as  the 
builder  of  the  tunnel  from  Lake 
Velinus  to  the  Nar.  He  was 
three  times  chosen  consul,  and 
was  famous  as  a  model  of  all  the 
Roman  virtues. 

28.  Tiberius  Coruncaniusy  an 
eminent  jurist  who  held  all  the 
high  offices  of  state,  includ- 
ing those  of  consul  (280  b.  c.) 
and  Pontifex  Maximus. 

29.  The  Stoics. 

30.  The  ideal  wise  men  of 
the  Stoics. 

31.  Quintus  Ennius  (born 
about  239  B.  c. :  died  in  169), 
an  epic  poet  and  dramatist,  one 
of  the  founders  of  Latin  litera- 
ture.     His  most  celebrated  work 

163 


was  the  epic  poem  "Annals'* 
(traditional  Roman  history),  de- 
signed as  a  supplement  to  the 
Homeric  Poems. 

32.  Empedocles,  who  called 
the  fundamental  forces  of  attrac- 
tion and  repulsion  friendship  and 
strife.  He  flourished  early  in 
the  fifth  century  b.  c. 

33.  The  '*  Dulorestes,"  an 
adaptation  of  the  *' Iphigenia  in 
Tauris "  of  Euripides.  The 
reference  is  to  that  part  of  the 
legend  of  Orestes  in  which,  hav- 
ing gone  with  his  friend  Pylades 
to  Tauris  by  order  of  the  Del- 
phic Oracle  to  carry  off  the  sa- 
cred image  of  Artemis  and  thus 
purify  himself  from  the  guilt  of 
matricide,  he  is  seized  by  King 
Thoas  and  threatened  with  death. 

34.  M.  PacuviuSy  one  of  the 
most  celebrated  of  Roman  drama- 
tists, a  nephew  of  Ennius.  He 
was  born  about  220  b.  c,  and 
died  about  132. 

164 


3  5-  Amor,  love,  Amicttiay 
friendship. 

36.  Tarquin  the  Proud,  the 
last  king  of  Rome,  a  tyrant  famous 
in  Roman  annals.  The  rape  of 
Lucretia  by  his  son  Sextus,  led, 
according  to  the  legends,  to  his 
overthrow  and  the  establishment 
of  the  Republic. 

37.  Spurius  C as  si  us  Viscelli- 
nus,  a  patrician,  proposer  of  the 
first  agrarian  law,  beheaded  in 
485  on  the  (doubtless  false) 
charge  of  aiming  at  regal  power. 

38.  Spurius  Maelius,  a  wealthy 
plebeian.  The  charge  of  aspir- 
ing to  the  kingship  brought  against 
him  was  false,  and  was  based 
upon  the  fact  that  in  440  b.  c, 
during  a  famine,  he  sold  corn  to 
the  poor  at  a  low  price,  or  gave 
it  away. 

39.  Pyrrhus,  king  of  Epirus. 
He  invaded  Italy  in  280  b.  c.  to 
aid  the  Tarentines  against  Rome, 
and   was   at  first   successful,   but 

16S 


was  finally  beaten  at  Beneventum 
in  275.  He  treated  his  pris- 
oners kindly  and  returned  them 
without  ransom. 

40.  Hannibaly  the  great  Car- 
thaginian general.  He  conquered 
Spain,  crossed  the  Alps  (218 
B.  c),  and  defeated  the  Roman 
army  in  a  series  of  famous  bat- 
tles. He  was  recalled  to  Carth- 
age in  203,  and  was  finally  de- 
feated by  Scipio  Africanus  Major 
at  Zama,  in  202.  He  died  by 
suicide  about  1 86  b.  c.  His 
character  was  unfairly  judged  by 
the  Romans. 

41.  The  Epicureans. 

42.  Cnaeus  (or  Caius)  Mar- 
cius  Coriolanus,  in  Roman  legend 
a  patrician  who  was  impeached 
(490  B.  c.)  for  proposing  to 
force  the  abolition  of  the  tribu- 
nate by  suspending  the  public 
sales  of  corn.  He  fled  to  the 
Volscians,  and,  as  their  general, 
marched  against  Rome,  but  was 

166 


dissuaded  from  attacking  it  by  the 
entreaties  of  his  wife  and  mother. 

43.  See  notes  37  and  38. 

44.  Tiberius  Sempronius  Grac- 
chus, a  celebrated  political  re- 
former and  popular  leader,  born 
about  163  B.  c.  He  was  the 
grandson  of  Scipio  Africanus 
Major.  On  his  election  to  the 
tribunate  in  133  b.  c,  he  pro- 
posed and  carried,  amid  scenes  of 
violence,  measures  designed  to 
check  the  absorption  of  land  in 
the  great  estates  of  the  rich,  which 
was  rapidly  going  on,  and  to  se- 
cure its  greater  subdivision  and  its 
wider  distribution  among  the  class 
of  small  independent  farmers. 
At  the  end  of  his  tribunate  he 
endeavored,  contrary  to  the  law, 
to  secure  his  reelection,  and  was 
killed  (133  B.  c). 

45.  Qumtus  Aelius  Tubero, 
called  the  Stoic.  He  was  tribune 
with  Tib.  Gracchus  in  133  b.  c, 
and  opposed  his  agrarian  measures. 

167 


46.  Blossius  fled  to  Aristoni- 
cus,  kingof  Pergamos,  and,  when 
his  protector  was  conquered  by 
the  Romans,  committed  suicide. 

47.  Quint  us  Aemilius  Pap  us, 
a  soldier  and  statesman,  consul  in 
282  B.  c,  and  278,  and  censor 
in  275. 

48.  See  note  26. 

49.  Caius  Papirius  Car  bo,  a 
popular  leader,  tribune  in  131 
B.  c.  He  proposed  a  law  for 
the  use  of  the  ballot  in  enacting 
and  repealing  laws,  and  was 
thought  to  have  had  a  hand  in 
the  assassination  of  Scipio.  He 
also  proposed  a  law  permitting 
the  repeated  reelection  of  tri- 
bunes. 

50.  Caius  Porcius  Cato,  grand- 
son of  Cato  the  censor.  He  was 
consul  in  1 14  b.  c. 

51.  Caius  Sempronius  Grac- 
chus, younger  brother  of  Tib. 
Gracchus.  He  became  tribune 
in    123   B.  c,  renewed  his  bro- 

168 


ther's  agrarian  laws,  and  endeav- 
ored to  lay  the  foundations  of  a 
pure  democracy.  He  again  be- 
came tribune  in  122,  but  was 
defeated  in  121,  and  slain  in  the 
disturbance  which  followed. 

52.  Pubhus  Scipio  Nasica,  the 
leader  of  the  aristocratic  party 
that  assassinated  Tib.  Gracchus. 
His  course  in  this  matter  so  en- 
raged the  people  that  his  life  was 
in  danger,  and  the  Senate,  to  save 
him,  sent  him  on  a  pretended 
mission  to  Asia.  He  died,  prac- 
tically an  exile,  at  Pergamum. 

53.  See  note  49. 

54.  The  Gabinian  law,  en- 
acted by  Aulus  Gabinius  when 
tribune  in  139  b.  c,  introduced 
the  use  of  the  ballot  in  the  elec- 
tion of  magistrates,  and  its  use 
was  extended  to  courts  of  justice 
(except  in  certain  cases)  by  the 
Cassian  law  in  137. 

55.  The  famous  Athenian 
statesman  and  general,  conqueror 

169 


of  Xerxes  at  Salamis.  He  was 
ostracized  about  470  b.  c,  and 
finally  went  to  Persia.  There 
is  little  probability  that,  as  Cicero 
asserts,  he  committed  suicide. 

56.  One  of  the  Seven  Wise 
Men  of  Greece.  He  lived  at 
Priene  in  Ionia,  probably  in  the 
sixth  century  b.  c. 

57.  See  note  22. 

58.  Publius  Rupilius,  consul 
in  132  B.  c.  He  was  a  bitter 
opponent  of  the  party  of  the 
Gracchi. 

59.  ^intus  Fabius  Maximus 
Aemilianusy  eldest  son  of  L.  Aem. 
Paulus  and  adopted  son  of  Quintus 
Fabius  Maximus  Cunctator.  He 
was  consul  in  145  b.  c,  and  de- 
feated Viriathus,  in  Spain,  in  144. 

60.  See  note  58. 

61.  Lucius  Rupilius y  a  man  of 
no  especial  distinction. 

62.  Son  of  Achilles  the  hero 
of  the  Iliad,  and  grandson  of 
Lycomedes.      After  the  death  of 

170 


his  father,  his  presence  with  the 
army  before  Troy  was  declared 
by  an  oracle  to  be  essential  to  the 
capture  of  that  city.  He  was 
one  of  those  who  entered  the 
city  in  the  wooden  horse. 

63.  See  note  62. 

64.  Chosen  consul  in  141 
B.  c,  in  opposition  to  Laelius. 
He  gained  his  election  by  trickery. 

65.  Qumtus  Caecilius  Metellus 
Macedonicus,  a  noted  general,  col- 
league of  Scipio  and  Laelius  in 
the  augurship.  He  was  chosen 
consul  in  143  b.  c. 

66.  A  noted  Greek  Pythago- 
rean philosopher  and  mathemati- 
cian.     He  lived  about  400  b.  c. 

67.  Publius  Terentius  Afer,  a. 
celebrated  writer  of  comedies. 
He  was  born  at  Carthage  about 
185  B.  c,  and  died  about  159. 
The  *'Andria,"  which  was  first 
exhibited  about  166,  is  an  adap- 
tation of  a  play  of  the  same  name 
by  Menander. 

171 


68.  A  parasite  in  Terence's 
**  Eunuchus,"  a  comedy  based 
on  material  borrowed  from  Me- 
nander. 

69.  See  note  49. 

70.  Tribune  o£  the  people  in 
145  B.  c. 

7 1 .  The  Rostra,  on  which  the 
orators  stood,  lay  between  the 
Forum,  where  the  plebeian  as- 
sembly met,  and  the  Comitium  or 
meeting-place  of  the  patricians, 
and  it  had  been  customary,  even 
for  the  tribunes,  to  address  the 
latter. 

72.  Miiites  gloriosi,  bragging 
soldiers  —  favorite  characters  in 
the  old  comedies.  The  **  Miles 
Gloriosus"  was  a  well-known 
play  by  Plautus. 

73.  This  passage  is  from  the 
"Eunuchus"  of  Terence.  Thra- 
80,  the  *' braggart  soldier,"  puts 
the  question  about  his  mistress 
Thais  to  Gnatho,  the  parasite. 

74.  A     quotation     from     the 

172 


"Epiclerus"    of  Caecilius    Sta- 
tius. 

75.  See  note  35. 

76.  Tiberius  Sempronius  Grac- 
chus, father  of  the  famous  tribunes 
mentioned  above,  and  son-in-law 
to  the  elder  Africanus.  He  was 
tribune  in  187  b.  c,  pretdr  in 
181,  and  consul  in  177  and  163. 
He  attained  great  distinction  as  a 
general  in  Spain. 


173 


V 


5 


Mmmwmmy.mii 
B  .  000  002  892    8 


inri 


S^ 


>i 


.]V}JO^ 


^  .2  ^    5,0r  CAIIFO/?^ 

ifpi 


•Bin. 


